SO English!
by Sweepeaspatch
Summary: A Special Envoy to the Queen visits Saint-Marie. This is a Johnny English cross-over but I couldn't list it as such so it's here as a DiP story. This is after JE1. JE2 never happened, sigh. JE3 isn't out yet so there's nothing to refute my version of events... and I'm going with it! **my series "Life With Richard" hasn't been posted yet so there are some spoilers here**
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: this is for you, farfromhome… you read my mind months ago. Hope it satisfies.

 **Story List** **:**

1\. So English! – 4 parts

2\. If You Got It, Flaunt It

3\. Memories of Croydon

4\. Her Man Bough

5\. Johnny English 3 - 18 parts

 **SO English!**

Part 1 of 4

A Special Envoy to the Crown has come to Saint Marie. Tonight is the obligatory pressing of the flesh. Richard is fussing a bit but not as much as he used to. He is growing comfortable in his new position as Deputy Commissioner. Besides, he has the most beautiful woman of the islands on his arm, guiding and aiding him with the social aspects. She has always been his shield and now she guards his heart as well as his back.

When it is their turn for introduction, they see a tall poised man, fit and trim, dark and sloe-eyed, confident and comfortable in his official state. Beside him stands his factotum, pale and quiet.

The pale man makes the introductions, "May it please the Crown to introduce Sir Jonathon English, Special Envoy to her Majesty the Queen of England. Sir, may I introduce the Deputy Commissioner of Police and Detective Chief Inspector of Saint-Marie, Richard Poole, and his good lady wife, Detective Inspector of the Honoré Police Force, Camille Poole."

The envoy gives Richard a firm handshake, bows to Camille, and says in a low cultured voice, "Charmed."

As they are ushered away to make room for the considerable queue of guests behind them, Richard thinks he recognizes a familiar flash in the pale factotum's eyes but it is only for an instant and then they are past. He leans in and whispers into her ear, "Didn't WE sound good enough to eat? That was quite the introduction!"

Camille is fanning herself and barely hears him, "Wow!" she murmurs.

"Hmm? Something?"

"Yes! That man! So handsome! So quiet and dignified! What a surprise!"

"Well, dearest, the upper-crust tends to be cultured and pampered. They aren't like we commoners."

She flashes him a keen look that usually thrills him but her next words are a dash of cold water, "I don't mean the 'Sir'! I mean the man at his side. Richard, didn't you see it?"

He turns to look back. No. He doesn't see anything. He turns back to Camille. "What?"

"He is the spitting image of you! How could you have missed it? Oh, goodness, I need a cool drink!"

"Oh, Camille. Surely not!"

"Well, he's fairer and you're darker."

"I think the word you are looking for is 'grey'?"

"He's slimmer."

"I'm fatter."

"He's … no, you're not! You are exactly your fighting weight." Here she gives him a slightest nudge in the ribs to let him know he is also the right weight for a LOT of things. They share a matrimonial smile then she sighs, "And he's so sad. Like you were when you first came here."

"Is he? I remember those days. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. But, Camille, remember... you are a married woman. Don't let this infatuation lead you astray." He smiles but she returns a speculative look.

"Hmmm. Well, if Octavia St. Remy tries to back you into a corner again, I swear I WILL drown my sorrows in that young man's arms. So watch your back." He shakes his head but hears her sotto voce none the less, "AND your front."

Later that evening, Richard has the opportunity to engage Sir Jonathon's aide in conversation. As they talk, he begins to sense a kindred spirit in Angus Bough. The man has impeccable credentials and excellent manners. As they talk, Richard watches over Bough's shoulder as Sir Jonathon spills a drink down Madame Governor's dress then trips a server who knocks over a table. Bough keeps his back to all this and doesn't bat an eye.

Richard asks, "Is this his usual demeanor?"

"Not always. He's a good man and tries to do the right thing. He's really quite personable and very brave. I could tell you stories but the Secrecies Act prevents. I'm very proud to serve with him. He's a very special friend of the Queen." There is a beat of silence then it all rushes out, "He doesn't need an assistant! He needs a keeper! A minder! Someone with a net to watch over him every moment of every day! I have to watch his every move, monitor his every word. He's so unpredictable. He needs me but I'm worn out. I'm just worn out."

"Hmm, well, my wife seems to have everything under control for now. Rather like she does with me. A wife can change your life, you know. She changed mine. I'm not even remotely like the man I was five years ago." He pats Bough on the shoulder, "Buck up. Miracles seem to happen on this island."

Richard decides to help Bough in any way he can. Perhaps Governor Patterson could use a man of immense skills and absolute discretion at Government House? Loyal defenders of the realm are hard to come by and worth their weight in gold.

Leaving Bough to enjoy a quiet moment by himself, Richard approaches Sir Jonathon and Camille as the destruction is being cleaned up, "I see my wife has been of some assistance. Jolly good." He and Sir Jonathon fall into a comfy chat about England and all its glories. The cool rain. The autumn colours. The smell of jonquils in the Spring. The change of seasons. By the time they get to sports, Camille has heard enough.

"Anyone would think your home country is Paradise. Oh, you English!"

Sir Jonathon bows to her, "At your service, beautiful lady."

She laughs, "No, that was a gentle joke at my husband's expense. Sometimes he is SO English."

Warm brown eyes gaze suggestively over her hand as he sweeps it to his lips, "But, of course, dear lady. However, remember, I am ALWAYS English," he drawls and smiles. She is struck dumb... _good lord! Did that just happen?_

Richard touches her arm, "Camille? Dearest? Are you feeling all right? Do you need to rest?"

Sir Jonathon puffs a small sound of amusement, bows his head and excuses himself.

Camille comes to, "Oh, goodness! That's only the second man who's ever done that to me." She whirls to follow the stately progression of the Envoy, "AND he is English too! I think I've underestimated your entire country and its men!"

END part 1


	2. Chapter 2

**SO English!**

Part 2 of 4

Richard is puzzled, "He's certainly charming when he isn't destroying the scenery… HALF a mo'!" He crosses his arms, giving her a mock stern look, "Only the SECOND man? And WHO was the first?!"

She kisses his cheek, smells his fresh clean scent and begins dreamy plans for later, "Why, you, of course. My lawfully wedded husband. To have… and to hold… for better and for…"

He holds up a weary hand, "Never mind finishing that statement. I know where this is leading and I surrender completely in order to save time later." He puts an arm around her still trim waist and whispers in her ear, "Besides, I'm rather looking forward to 'the worst'. Nowhere in our wedding vows did it say 'kinky', 'inventive', or 'downright outrageous'."

She pats his cheek, "I told you we should have written our own vows."

The look on his face is priceless. "And WHAT would your mother have said about THAT?"

Her sly smile told him more than he wanted to know, "Chéri, she offered to help write the script." He groans. Better to quit while he is behind. TWO French women versus one lone Brit, it just wasn't fair!

Two days later, a big black car pulls up outside 'La Kaz' and Sir Jonathon wafts in, surprising Richard and Camille at lunch, "Ah, so delightful to meet you again. My man Bough suggested I partake of the cuisine at this establishment. He could not accompany me, poor man. He's having a lie down. He's not very strong, you know. Sometimes I wonder if he shouldn't take a sabbatical somewhere nice. Here, perhaps? To regain his strength?"

Richard smiles and conjectures, "Was there more mayhem at Government House today?" He thinks he detects a slight pause in Sir Jonathon's response.

"Nothing much. A broken window, some crockery in the driveway and a small fire. A mere trifle." He waves it off with a languid hand and a cautious glance.

Camille leans over to whisper into Richard's ear, "I wish I was there to see how THAT happened."

Sir Jonathon sees this intimate moment and clasps his hands and smiles indulgently, "Ah, young love! How wonderful. You are so very lucky to find your soul-mate, my boy. I remember my youth. Ahhh, the ladies!" Here he rolls his eyes and sighs, "But! Leave the past in the past, I always say. Discretion is my byword. The Queen demands no less."

"I'm sure," Richard manages. Seeing Catherine, he motions her over, "And may I introduce my wife's mother. Sir Jonathon English, Catherine Bordey. Catherine Bordey…" He stops. Something isn't right.

Sir Jonathon is gazing with swimming eyes at Catherine, a goofy smile slowly covering his entire face. Whirling, Richard looks at Catherine. She is looking back with alert speculation.

Sir Jonathon slowly takes her hand, leans forward and brings it to his lips, "Enchanté, most highly esteemed lady." Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

Richard nudges Camille. Camille looks. Freezes. "Maman!"

Catherine holds up her free hand to command silence, "Hush, my child. I am meeting this most handsome man at the moment." Her careful look morphs into something very intimate.

Still holding her hand to his lips, Sir Jonathon murmurs, "How very gratifying. Thank you. My special friends call me Johnny." He straightens up. Catherine takes his arm and leads him away to the reserved table, leaving Richard and Camille sitting dumbfounded.

"What just happened?" they ask each other.

The rest of their lunch is a bit distracted what with them trying so very hard to eavesdrop on the reserved table without being too obvious and all. Camille is outraged at the body English… um… the subliminal non-verbal communication… that she is SURE she is seeing! "Richard! If I'd flirted with you like that, you would have arrested me!" she informs her bemused spouse.

"Darling, if you had flirted like that with me, I would have joined you in the cells… so stop rubber-necking and give them some privacy. We English are rather shy at courtship… as you well know!"

"Well, SHY isn't the first word that comes to mind! Honestly!"

He doesn't think more than a moment or two before offering, "Are we talking about him or her?" His prediction is right on as this gets him a very hot response that he is sure he will pay for later… if he is a VERY good boy. How he loves to wind her up!

Before returning to work, they stop at the reserved table to take their leave. Catherine is smiling, "Ah, my darlings, Johnny has invited me to tonight's soiree at Government House. Isn't that terribly gallant?"

"But, Maman, do you have anything to wear to such a function? It's rather short notice!" She gives Sir Johnathon a withering look that is completely wasted on him although her Maman stiffens.

Sir Jonathon pats Catherine's hand where it rests on his forearm, "Nonsense, young lady. A beautiful woman looks good in anything..." He turns to Catherine, one eyebrow slowly rising, "… and in nothing."

Catherine raises an eyebrow in reply and it is Richard's turn to stiffen. He recognizes that look. He gets it often enough from his wife and it always led to wonderful things. He casts an eye to Johnny, cocks an eyebrow that sends a message, _Be careful, mate, you're dealing with fire here!_ Much to his surprise, Johnny beams back by eyebrow, _Oh, don't tell me something I don't already know!_ The two men share a conspiratorial smile, chap to chap and all that rot.

Camille has caught most of this non-verbal byplay and Richard catches her before she can rocket out of his grip and marches her away, whispering, "Be calm, dearest. It's like watching an avalanche in slow motion. Fascinating is its inevitability."

"What is she THINKing? What is she DOing? I thought YOU were English but he… he… "

Richard nods thoughtfully, "Yes, he really IS English."

END part 2


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Catherine is with Sir Jonathon the entire evening at Government House and he is impeccable. No accidents. No mayhem. Richard sees him consult with her often, sees her check his words or motions when it seems like disaster looms. Nothing happens. It is an uneventful evening… so far. Johnny is the epitome of British aplomb.

Richard finds Bough hiding in the greenery to one side of the ballroom, watching his erstwhile charge wide-eyed, "Commissioner Poole! Who IS that woman? How is she DOing it? I can't believe it! My prayers have been answered!" Richard lays a commiserating hand on Bough's shoulder as they watch the miracle together with a perfect meeting of minds.

There is a sudden rustling behind them... the sound of a Canadian cougar in tall grass… or a Caribbean shark in shallow water. A very tipsy Lady St. Remy pushes her way in. She sees Richard's wide back in the leafy gloom and a very satisfied leer springs to her face. _At last! Sweet treat is unguarded! Foolish careless women should NOT marry such delectable men. Or, at least, share them if they did. Or leave them unprotected more often. Or sell tickets._ She'd staked out the wine bar all evening and watched most patiently until she'd seen her quarry split off from his marital-warden and wander in here for a moment's freedom. She had lost no time in following him… practically skipping in glee.

"So! THIS is where you're hiding. Anything to avoid that grasping wife of yours, am I right? I've waited all evening to get you to myself and patience has finally paid off! Now, let a REAL woman show you how we do things!"

Then it is HER turn to look surprised as Richard whirls around and she sees Bough standing close behind. "Oh, my god!" she gasps in greedy satisfaction, "So THAT'S the way of it, is it? A bit of shock, I must say! I never believed the rumours… but I grant you, he's tasty. Oh, this is TOO wonderful! Very well, I promise not to say a WORD if we retire upstairs to the Dignitaries East Wing right now. You can let your boy toy watch. Maybe we can include him after the preliminaries are over. Perhaps I can persuade you BOTH to switch sides."

Her targets are frozen in offended manhood as she falls upon them, wrapping her arms around their shoulders trying to kiss them, then they look at each other and begin to laugh. She rears back, indignant, "What? What's so funny?"

Richard wipes an eye and slips out of the woman's embrace, "You. Us. This."

Bough chuckles, sliding away in the opposite direction, "The very idea!" and casts a humorous eye to his companion, "What would your wife say?"

Richard chokes, "Oh, god, Bough! Don't even suggest it! I shudder to think!"

They sail off into gales of laughter.

There is more rustling, a much more dangerous sound than previously, perhaps the sound of a cougar shark streaking in for the kill and Camille is in their midst, looking hot and bothered, "Octavia St. Remy! Get your hands OFF… oh… what's happening? I thought I was coming to the rescue..." she gives her husband a hard look, "… AGAIN! Can't I leave you alone for one MINUTE?!"

Bough is highly amused to see the contrite look on Poole's face, a look he didn't quite believe. The quick sideways glance and half-smile that meets his look convinces him… the man isn't upset in the slightest. As a matter of fact, he seems a bit self-satisfied. Bough looks back to the wife, _Is this some sort of game for them? Hmm, this bears closer observation._

Camille rounds on Lady St. Remy, "What are YOU still doing here?! I've told you before that unless you find an alternate universe where I'm dead, or his IQ is halved, you will NEVER get your claws into him!" She advances slowly and implacably upon the woman, "Maybe you'd like me to give you a scar to match HIS? Now beat it before I forget you're a Lady... AND I use the term VERY loosely!"

"You can't watch him every minute of every day!" St. Remy growls before turning away from yet another defeat. The Lady tramps away to vamp another day.

Camille rounds on the men and meets two sets of admiring eyes, "What?"

Bough breathes to Richard, "She is magnificent! Does she have a sister that isn't particular or maybe hard of sight?"

Richard approaches his wife, making conciliatory hand motions, "Camille, dearest, most darling... we were just having a chat when we were besieged by the enemy. But never fear, Bough had my back." There is a beat of silence then quiet laughter once more.

Camille stamps an elegantly shod foot, "Oh! English humour! I don't understand it!"

Wiping his eyes, Richard declines Bough's proffered handkerchief and gets out his own, "Sorry, love. School in-joke. Turns out Angus and I went to the same boy's school."

Camille frowns at Bough, "Oh, you poor, poor man. I wish I DID have a sister. She'd straighten you out."

The men look at her then each other then fall onto each other's shoulders laughing afresh. Camille shrugs... _English! SO English! How is a lone French woman to cope with not ONE but a BRACE of Brits?_

It is some time before the men regain their composure and the trio can rejoin the soiree. Certain eyes follow them speculatively. Governor Selwyn Patterson speaks to his wife. She nods and strolls off on a fact-finding mission.

Moments later, fresh drinks in hand, Camille turns to her husband, "Honestly, Richard! You don't need a wife. You need a MINDER! A keeper! Someone with a big net to throw over these women. I can't be guarding you every minute of every day. With three children at home and a fourth on the way…" she sees Bough's admiring sideways glance to Richard, "... I'm just too TIRED. You need someone special at your side."

She sees the look pass between the men, a question asked and answered in silence. She catches her breath, _NO! BOTH of them? Together? What a pair they will make._

Now they will need a minder for the minder!

End – part 3


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

A bit later, the festivities are winding down. The final event is a special presentation to the Envoy. Everyone gathers in the drawing room, standing in close formation as the officiating dignitaries, including Governor Patterson, go through the motions. Sir Johnathon and Bough are in the front row along with Catherine, Richard and Camille by special personal invitation.

Just as Sir Jonathon's name is called, shots ring out. Three men rush the dignitaries, holding guns to heads, taking hostages, menacing the crowd. Shocked into immobility, Richard sees Sir Jonathon shoot his cuffs with utter aplomb as he murmurs, "Jolly good. Finally."

Sir Jonathon calmly steps forward, "Gentlemen, perhaps I can be of service?" Heads swivel to follow his progress as he strolls to the near end of the table closest to the hostage-takers. No one is watching Bough who fades from Richard's side like smoke. Richard has his hands full trying to keep his wife from storming the malefactors (out of pure policing zeal) and his mother-in-law from racing to Johnny's side (out of pure zeal alone).

Johnny speaks calmly, "May I suggest that you let these good people leave so that WE may talk? I have read your 'Glorious Manifesto for Caribbean Freedom' and have been following your political movement with great interest. I also have special dispensation to speak for The Crown. You don't need those low-level bureaucrats to make your point... you may let them go... I am listening." He waves a dismissive hand, his expressive face telling the malefactors exactly how unimportant their hostages really are.

Richard sees Governor Patterson bristle at this and thinks, _Uh oh, Selwyn's just upped his game, I wager. High Commissioner of the Caribbean, perhaps? Lordy, where does that leave ME?_ Ruefully he looks back to the two women he is restraining almost successfully. He leans forward and whispers to them, "Please don't get shot… I'm going to need you both to keep me alive after Selwyn calms down!" This causes the women to pause and study the tableau before them. They stand down and ponder what they are seeing. This is a type of performance they've not witnessed before… certainly not here on tiny Saint-Marie. They are glimpsing a bit of Johnny's world… and it is very strange.

Johnny preens, smooths his lapels, "After all, I AM a special friend to the Queen. She will pay a king's ransom to procure my safety. She told me so herself… personally." He waggles his eyebrows and smiles a slow lazy smile that convinces everyone who sees it. For Richard's part… he DOES believe it… as odd as it seems.

Three guns swivel to point at Johnny. Richard leaps into action and begins to usher people out of the room. The crowd begins to move. The former hostages come around the table to join the exodus. Johnny waits until the room empties out then smiles, "Splendid. Bough, let us try the Russian Gambit of 2012." Pausing at the door, Richard, Camille and Catherine turn back just in time.

Richard sees movement at the far end of the table where no one is looking. It is Bough, watching Johnny intently, face calm and focused, "Yes, sir."

They reach down as one and flip the table over onto the gunmen.

The crash is resoundingly.

Months later

Camille is still in shock... not a state conducive to matrimonial bliss with baby Poole #4 due any day now. Richard would think to pinch himself… just to make sure it isn't all a dream… if his lovely wife wasn't already doing it several times a day, saying, "Tell me AGAIN… what happened?"

Maman and Johnny are married and living on his new island, Saba, a gift from the Queen through her Dutch connections, where they'd subsequently uncovered the dread pirate Le Clerc's treasure while out bird watching and inadvertently rediscovering the Saint-Marie Green… now rechristened Amazona saint-marie englishii.

Le Clerc's links to Saint-Marie were proven by artifacts found at the treasure site. Apparently Le Clerc had moved his treasure in order to prevent its plundering by his own crew. Selwyn was extremely gratified and spear-headed the establishment of a very impressive display at 'La Kaz I' to trumpet this fact to all and sundry. The attendant wears a pirate hat and has a small parrot on his/her shoulder… a detail that is not lost upon Richard who smiles every time he sees this private joke during his frequent lunches with his old team.

Bird watchers from around the world are flocking (hah!) to Saba where Catherine… excuse me… DAME Catherine runs the most exclusive beach-side bistro in living memory... 'La Kaz II'.

Johnny is to receive a Lordship for services rendered to The Crown… and the Caribbean Ornithological Society. Maman will then be Lady English! Oh, the jokes Richard is saving up to zing her back for all the insults he's endured over the years!

And Richard was correct about a certain someone's political aspirations.

Selwyn was so challenged by Sir Jonathon's dismissive remarks that he began an immediate campaign to leap several levels in the bureaucratic chain, from minor to major. He has informed Richard that he has one year to prepare himself for full Commissioner-hood because Selwyn is blowing this pop stand. Watch his dust.

As for the now abandoned Angus Bough, Selwyn was so impressed with him and his backstory according to Richard, Camille, and his own dear wife's investigations that he is immediately seconded to the Commissioner's office so that he will be up to speed when Richard takes over the mantle. In the interim, he will act as Richard's factotum (…and guard, mutters Camille).

Bough had shed one tear then shook Richard's hand with great solemnity, "I will strive to give my utmost effort, sir."

"We expect no less, Angus. And, perhaps, you will be so fortunate as to find a reason to remain here in Paradise for a good many years." _Good lord_ , thinks Richard, _I sound just LIKE him! I'm channeling my inner Patterson… that sly old fox. Well, it's time for a sly younger fox to slip into the hen yard… that's me… and the hens won't know what's hit them!_ He knows full well that he unsettles every single person who has to deal with HIM now… except for Selwyn, of course. That man is SO sure he is impervious to Poole's secret powers of observation and deduction. Richard smiles. He can't wait for the first opportunity to 'poke the bear'. Should be great sport!

Casting an eye over the huge crowd here at Government House for Selwyn's announcement to run for High Commissioner, Angus murmurs, "Perhaps, sir. I've never seen so many beautiful women in one place before. How do they manage it?"

Sighing contentedly, Richard shrugs, "Island magic? Voodoo, if you believe in that sort of thing."

Angus hesitates then speaks quietly, "Do you know the last thing Sir Jonathan said to me before he left? He said, 'Angus, my boy. This island is magic. My dear Catherine importuned the gods on my behalf. Have you not noticed the peace and quiet in my vicinity now? The song has it right... that voodoo that you do so well.' Don't you find that odd, sir?"

Richard has to shake himself out of the surprised lull that the spot-on imitation of Johnny's voice had induced, "Um… Richard, please… and Angus, I don't put a single thing past this island at all. I've even noticed that the sea levels aren't rising here to match world measurements."

Angus is watching one slim young woman in particular. She has an almost imperceptible silver aura. Must be the sunlight. "Sir… Richard… who is Erzuli?" he asks a bit dreamily.

Richard starts, "Where in god's name did you hear THAT word?"

"Don't know. It just now floated in with all the conversation here in the room."

Looking carefully over his left shoulder, Richard whispers, "I just BET it did." He thinks about his run-ins with those… whatever. He'd wasted his time resisting. The Loa always got what they wanted. He gently pushes the younger man towards the woman who is now looking at Angus in answering amazement, "Go ask her if she knows Erzuli. And don't waste a single moment. Be kind to the gods and they will be kind to you."

Watching Angus approach his soul-mate, Richard sighs. Four children down... three to go. Erzuli is a hard taskmaster but a deal is a deal and he never goes back on his word.

Ever.

END


	5. Chapter 5

**If you Got it, Flaunt it**

Two Brits sit at a table in a luxurious setting, imbibing God's elixir and reminiscing almost absent-mindedly about 'old Blighty'.

They see they are under surveillance.

"Ah, the Bordey women! Drink up, young fella me lad. We are lost!"

A china cup is set down delicately, "Not lost, Johnny... found."

An indulgent smile, "Ah, yes, of course. Thank you, Richard."

They fold their hands on top of the table expectantly like good little boys waiting for Christmas.

Across the room, Camille is amused by this, "I believe we are upsetting the gentlemen."

Catherine sighs and smiles, "Yes, we are."

"See how they sip their tea in unison, trying to cover up their uneasiness?"

"Very amusing but, chérie, they are not uneasy."

"They're not? What are they, then?"

"Hot. Very hot."

"Really?"

"Yes, Englishmen try to hide it, especially from French women. It is the eternal struggle."

"Ah. So. A losing battle, then." A satisfied sigh.

"Oui, but you must excuse me now. I believe MY English deserves to be cooled down a bit."

"Maman!"

"Oh, what? You can flaunt YOUR English but I can't?" An exasperated huff.

"I do NOT flaunt… or, at least, I don't THINK I… oh, all right, I do… but…"

"No buts allowed, chérie. I have just as much right to be proud of mine as you do of yours. In fact…" and Catherine signals that someone is looking at Camille with real need in his eyes.

Camille gives a casual glance then straightens up slightly, "Oh. Um. Well. Perhaps you're right, Maman. Anyway, it's time for our afternoon tea break so I think we'll toddle off now."

Smiling, Catherine arches an eyebrow. _Tea break? Is that what they're calling it now?_ She stands and nods to one man who rises in a most dignified way, gives a slight bow to the younger man, crosses the room to take Catherine's hand and they waft arm in arm out of the venue.

Camille watches them leave. _Good for them_ , she thinks. Swiveling, she pierces her own man with a look. He bolts a bit less dignified to his feet, runs a hand down his tie, and eagerly approaches. She smiles, takes his arm and whispers in his ear, taking great care to brush his cheekbone with her lips. She can feel his blush on her own cheek before she straightens up.

"Yes, please," he murmurs.

Taking his proffered arm, she proudly flaunts her English all the way to the door.

END


	6. Chapter 6

**spoiler alert – references to 'Life with Richard' series that hasn't been posted over on AO3 yet.

 **Memories of Croydon**

It is a British fact-finding Commission's welcoming do at Government House and it is boring as hell. Just as boring as he'd feared it would be. Not enough booze and definitely NOT enough female skin on display… in fact, none at all! Why come all the way to a tropical paradise that doesn't have half-naked women on tap? It's a mystery… not that he liked mysteries, mind. Being a cop doesn't mean you like mysteries, you know.

Reggie Suggs, on security detail with the Commission and a reluctant last-minute substitute at that, finishes complaining to himself and looks across the room. Looks and jerks in surprise. He can't believe his bleary eyes! Why, it's Dickie Poole over there talking to a gaggle of foreigners with a younger version of Dickie standing at his right elbow. Did Dickie have a younger brother? Reggie can't remember… and anyway, who cares? Dickie was always good for a laugh in the old days… and everyone looks so serious! Time to liven up this party!

Reggie saunters over, fond memories of all the ragging he and Dougie Anderson had enjoyed at Dickie's expense running through his fogged mind. He barges into the group, slaps Dickie's back, almost knocking the drink out of his hand, "Hiya, Dickie-boy! Long time no see. How's banishment treatin' ya? Who are all these posh yobs? Friends of yours?" He laughs uproariously at the idea of Dickie having friends… even down here in this god-forsaken backend of the Empire.

There is a moment of silence then hard hands grab him, turn him and frog march him away, an arm twisted up painfully behind his back. He sees Dickie's sidekick and two enormous gorillas on him and he goes quietly due to complete shock. What just happened?

He hears Dickie excuse himself in French, some other jibber jabber, then English, saying, "Excuse me. This person seems to have mistaken me for someone else. I'll be back momentarily." Dickie then signals to the bully boys and they follow him outside into a shaded sunken garden. Dickie nods and the goons release Reggie who stands rubbing his arm. The sidekick returns to his station at Dickie's right elbow. It is a tense moment which Reggie just can't believe, not with Dickie-boy! He has to laugh, "What's the deal, Dickie?" He nods to the sidekick, "And who's this? Your boyfriend?"

Dickie crosses his arms over his chest. Reggie notices the suit doesn't move at all. Hmm, VERY expensive. Nor does he look at all upset. His eyes are calm, cool, in control. Did he make a mistake? This man looks like Dickie but he sure doesn't act like Dickie.

Dickie speaks, "You've just insulted three Presidents, two Special Envoys to the Queen, and a Lord of the Realm… not to mention..." A cold look "… me. Care to suggest how I should handle your gross transgression of Caribbean hospitality?"

"Huh? What are you yabbering on about? Can't an old Croydon cronie say Hi?"

At the word 'Croydon', his minders growl and take a step closer. The boyfriend's eyes light up. Dickie holds up a hand. The muscle halts but no one backs down. If he didn't know better, Reggie would fear a beating. He starts to sweat.

"No one calls me 'Dickie-boy'. The last person to do so is still paying the price and will continue to pay for the rest of his life in the general prison population." The boyfriend leans in. Whispers. "I stand corrected… in solitary confinement. Seems he doesn't get on well with others ANY where."

Reggie is getting worried, "Er, yes. I did hear summat about that. Dougie always DID play rough. Well, then, what DO they call you down here in this hell hole?"

The boyfriend grinds out, "We call him sir. Detective Chief Inspector. Commissioner. And very soon now, Sir Poole."

Reggie is startled, "A Knighthood? YOU? How did you swing that?"

"You don't follow the news much, do you?" the boyfriend mutters.

Reggie just can't help himself, "Are you two brothers or cousins or summat?"

Poole smiles, "Or summat." Green eyes meet in amusement, "We get that a lot, don't we, Angus?"

"Indeed we do! And hasn't it come in handy time and time again?" laughs the younger version.

A tall distinguished cove from the original group of yobs strolls out into the garden, joining the tense little tableau beneath the tree, "Everything all right out here, Richard?"

"Yes, Lord English. Just catching up on the gossip from my old station in Croydon."

The man's expressive eyebrows lift, "Croydon, you say?" He gives a long sigh, "What a pity times have changed. Too bad we can't still say 'off with his head' and problem solved." A piercing dark look belies the joke. Reggie swallows and, for once, minds his manners.

"Yes, Lord English. I'll ensure he doesn't intrude further on the proceedings."

"Well, jolly well see that he doesn't!" His Lordship waves a lanky hand towards the building, "It took me until now to calm down the delegation from South America. They jolly well want this man's head on a whangee stick out in the sun! His Delegation Head wants him gone! Now! This very instant! Chop chop!" Lordly hands are clapped sharply to emphasize the point.

"Yes, Lord English. It shall be done."

Reggie is silent. He's finally realized that he's stepped into a major pile of shit. How did it happen?

As Lord English turns away, he murmurs to the man who used to be Dickie Poole, "Do give my regards to your lovely wife, won't you, my boy?"

Poole smiles, "You may do it yourself, Johnny. She's just coming in with the children." He then gives a slight jerk of his chin and Reggie is being frog marched back into the room.

The entire retinue pauses as Poole stops to speak to a most beautiful and heavily pregnant woman. Behind her are 4 children, impeccably dressed and groomed. There is a hushed conversation. Reggie hears the word 'Croydon' pass between man and woman and is treated to the gimlet gaze of four pairs of green eyes as the children all swivel to look at him. When did 'Croydon' become a swear word? He feels like he is being sized up by a pride of lions… or hawks… whatever. Meat-eaters, every single one.

As one, the children hiss, "Andersssssson." It fair gives him the willies. Maybe Dougie is safer in lock-up after all? He sees the oldest boy lean down for a whisper from a younger boy. Is he suffering from shock? Did the boy actually hiss, 'Shall we kill him?' Did the oldest boy glance up his father, shake his head and hiss back, 'Papa would notice.'?

The head of his delegation comes up, making most abject apologies for the appalling behaviour of one of his members. Reggie is led away in disgrace, sees Poole soothing ruffled feathers and turning attention away from this temporary faux pas. His last sight of Poole is the man laughing with the Beauty and fenced in behind a ring of burning green eyes.

Oh! Reggie wants outta here so bad!

As he is bundled into a taxi and escorted by his security detail to the hotel to collect his belongings, Reggie cries out, "Well, how was I to know he'd ever amount to anything? We all knew he was a nothing… a nobody! How in god's name did THIS happen?"

The boyfriend fixes him with a cold stare, "If you had truly known him, you would understand. We all do. And if I were you, I'd be very careful until you are well away from the Caribbean. Accidents seem to follow his enemies."

Vague memories of bizarre accidents happening back in the UK swim up into Reggie's mind. Surely not! But… yes… come to think on it… the old crowd from Croydon seemed to have had an awful run of bad luck these past few years. _Those kids… were they ever in England?_ He shakes his head… _stop it, Reggie! They're just kids. Keep your cool! You're going home early and that's a GOOD thing, right?_

Wrong.

They left Reggie standing in the airport driveway with an 11-hour wait ahead of him. A car narrowly misses him in the driveway. A dog bites him. A tree falls over to block the main entrance. His jacket gets caught in the side door and rips. His ticket will not print and has to be hand-written. His coffee cup jumps out of his hand. His luggage disappears from beside him. His glasses snap in two on his face. His pockets drop everything onto the floor. Chairs keep breaking beneath him. Voices seem to whisper at his left shoulder.

He stands in the middle of the terminal within sight of three attendants and a Security Officer, clutching his wallet and passport to his chest. He badly needs a drink but doesn't dare leave the safety of this most public place.

His trip to the bathroom had been a nightmare. Snakes in the toilet! Wasps out of the tap!

 _Oh, god,_ he desperately prays _... get me OUT of this tropical hell and as far away from HIM as possible!_

END


	7. Chapter 7

**Her Man Bough**

Richard is beside himself. Quite literally. His assistant and indispensable aide, Angus Bough, is almost a carbon copy. They could be brothers. Even the eyes match. People comment on it all the time but the two men let it slide because they enjoy working together and like one another. Let the gossip rage. Wild speculation be damned! Their world ran smoothly and on time and that is all that matters.

Well, except for the women. Thank god for Camille and Celeste, their wives, who run interference at every turn and radiate force-field disaster to any woman who comes within arm's length of their men.

Octavia St. Remy is the worst offender. Honestly! Not content with trying to seduce Richard soon after he came to the island, she has decided that Angus will do just as well. Her last attempt at a threesome had been most daring but doomed to failure. After all, a red-blooded male can only handle so much feminine attention and these two had full dance cards!

Camille has yet to kindle with baby Poole #7 but the day isn't far off. A deal is a deal and Erzuli never sleeps, it seems. Celeste is almost ready to present baby Bough #3. All is right in both their worlds.

Except, here, in his office late at night, working on yet another fund-raising scheme for Governor Patterson, Richard has doubts. Nothing definite... just little things that didn't add up... and everyone knows how he hates that!

First of all, Camille's ardour seems to have cooled of late. Why, there have been entire afternoons this past week without a mid-day tryst. Granted, with 6 children at home….but she's always found time before… before what?

Secondly, when she DID drop in the last few times, he was almost sure she'd been whispering to Bough before coming into the inner office for private conference.

Thirdly, yesterday, he had seen her pass Bough a note. Or, maybe a note. Or, possibly something.

Lastly, Bough seems distracted lately. Antsy. Several times he'd actually jumped when spoken to. Of course he had a very pregnant wife at home and if she was anything like Camille when gravid, well, his work was cut out for him... but are ALL women like Camille? He has never asked. Somehow he didn't think so. Otherwise how would the world keep functioning with everyone so exhausted?

Hmm, suspicious. Very suspicious. Back in his glory days as D.I. Poole he would have known EXACTLY what to think. But… perhaps his acumen is a little rusty? Surely he hasn't lost ALL his detection skills? Surely not!

An affair?! Camille? With anyone? It beggared the imagination. But. Bough? His younger doppelganger? Hadn't Camille commented on that in the early days? Yes. She'd said she hoped to always be able to tell them apart otherwise… It had seemed a joke then… but now…?

His confidence is dwindling. He is older now, still trim and, he had thought, capable of satisfying his wife but if she isn't taking satisfaction with him, who IS she taking it with? The idea that she might be slowing down in her own way never occurs to him. Camille is a force of Nature. Best to duck and cover or take it like a man. No other options. Except… take a different man?

Groaning, he slumps in his chair. This is insane! He has no proof! Just his tired mind going in circles and his body needing sleep. Yes. He is working himself past normal hours and trying to distract himself because tomorrow is his 50th birthday and he dreads the very thought of it.

50! How in god's name did he get to be 50! Granted, he had a fine crop of progeny to show for it but he still has their teenage years to weather in his 60's and he hopes very fervently that Erzuli had taken that into consideration when it laid this geas upon him.

His green eyes have always been his down-fall.

His phone rings. He knows who it is before he picks up, promises to come right home and not to stop along the way to solve any errant crime he comes across. Hanging up, he smiles. She still knows how to make him happy… even if she IS having an affair with a younger man! Shaking his head, he is just finishing packing his briefcase when the phone rings again. He picks it up, says "Yep, on my way out the door as we speak," then drops it back into the cradle. Honestly, did she not think he knew his way home?

The house is dark. The children would all be in bed by now. He is sorry to have missed them again. He will make up for it tomorrow morning by have a long breakfast with them. The older children are showing keen interest in police procedure, always wanting to read over cold cases. Armand and twins Honore and Reynard are all about the clues, bringing in the damnedest things to be considered. Their collection of 'natural curiosities' is taking over their bedrooms. It might actually be fun to set up a crime scene and let them work it. Dian wants to know all about motive, means, and opportunity. She is a bit scary at times… a bit like her mother. He hopes her proclivities tend to law and not crime. The younger twins Soren and Theron are too young yet to really get involved but their silent keen eyes worry him too. The whole pack of them reminds him of a pride of lions somehow.

It is these thoughts that accompany him into the house. As he lays down his briefcase, he hears murmuring then silence. His suspicions well up without conscious thought. She wouldn't! Not in their home! This is positively the last straw! His jealousy overcomes his good sense and he charges into the morning room ready to do battle.

The lights flare up and a sea of faces meet his shock and surprise with great glee! Shouting, back-slapping, laughter, oh, he knows the signs! It is a surprise birthday party and for once in his life he's been taken by surprise… totally… because... _because I am a gormless git!_

Of COURSE it is a surprise birthday party! 50 is a big deal! Even the children have popped up from behind the sofa and are laughing uproariously at their father. Such a good surprise! Soren and Theron can barely stand up let alone stand up and laugh but they are managing with Dian's help.

He smiles delightedly, holds his hands up in the air in a 'look at this!' gesture, takes the proffered champagne, and begins meeting and greeting his guests. It takes a long time before he manages to get to Camille and Angus who are sitting at the back of the room looking very pleased with themselves.

"Well?!" Camille calls out to him, "Did we manage to surprise you?"

"Oh, absolutely! Total shocker! Who would think to throw a party BEFORE the actual birthday?"

"OK, smart guy! Admit it! We got you! Angus didn't think so. He said you've been brooding all afternoon but I told him it was old age catching up with you and that you didn't suspect a thing. Right?"

Passing a hand over his eyes, Richard laughs a bit shakily, "Right. But 50 isn't really that old, is it?"

Bough agrees, "Of course not! 50 is the new 40 or some such rot. I'm almost a babe in arms myself!"

Richard gives his assistant a slow look, "Hmmm. Yes. Speaking of babes, where's Celeste? She's still feeling well, I hope?"

Angus looks a bit hunted, "Er, yes. She's fine. As a matter of fact I'm under strict orders to be home within the next few minutes. Um. Family duties, you understand."

Richard recognizes the look immediately. He sighs in relief. So. Just like Camille. Thank god.

He claps Angus on the shoulder, "Well, don't let me stop you from fulfilling your obligations. I understand." Lowering his voice, he mutters, "Believe me, I understand COMPLETELY."

The two men share a commiserating look then Bough takes his leave.

Camille slips an arm around her husband's waist… mmmm, still nice. "And WHAT, may I ask, was THAT all about?"

"Oh, nothing. Just two husbands very lucky in love and all that. Isn't it nice to have someone you can trust implicitly and never doubt for an instant?" He gives her his best innocent look.

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. He raises his eyebrows in defense. He can tell by her manner that she is going to wrest the whole story out of him by whatever means possible. If he plays his cards right it might take all night. He smiles and she says, "I know that look. It means someone is in trouble and doesn't know it yet. What are you up to?"

He loops an arm around her waist and begins moving them towards the stairs, "Why, darling, it means I'm the new 40! And do you remember what was on my mind when I was 40?"

"Oh, yes! I remember very well. But, Richard, the house is full of people. Someone will notice we are gone. Dian will, for sure!"

Richard looks over, sees the children all looking back, silent and expectant. He nods. Dian bends over and whispers to the toddlers. The children move off into the party. "If we're quick, no one will know."

Laughing, she asks, "What have you been telling the children?"

"Nothing. It's what they've been telling me. They think it's time for baby #7 and that I'd better get my order in before all the good ones are taken."

"Well, that takes care of your birthday present for next year. Do you have any names picked out yet?"

"No. We'll have nine months to discuss it. I'm pretty sure the children might have one already picked out, come to think of it. What does the name 'Eloy' mean?"

"It's French for 'chosen one', why?"

He shrugs, "Dian asked about it the other day and didn't I think it was a wonderful baby's name? She's an enigmatic child. Takes after her mother."

"Mmm, she's a real chip off the old block, to be sure," she agrees as he steers her through the throng to the quiet of the stairway… not giving her opinion as to WHICH block. "Eloy," she says as they slip upstairs, "I like it. Let's keep it in mind."

"Fine," he replies, "as long as you keep in mind that tomorrow is my birthday and I am granted many wishes… starting with this one," as he closes their door behind them.

She DOES get the whole story out of him... a full confession, in fact.

He is punished suitably long and is justly contrite.

For nine months, in fact.

END

**author's note: and that's a wrap until I see JE3. No promises but I'm leaving this collection open in case something comes to me at a later date.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Johnny English 3**

Part 1 of 18

Angus Bough is alone and working late in his office. He looks up with a satisfied sigh. His office. Large. Well-appointed. Neat. Stuffed with secret knowledge. The outer bulwark to the inner sanctum. The inner sanctum where his salvation and rescue abides every day.

He glances down at his desk top and picks up the framed photograph he is so proud of. His family. His uncommonly beautiful wife, Celeste, (how had he ever managed that, he wonders not for the first time?) and his absolutely ineffable offspring; Sorcha, Padrag, and Lachlan (how had she managed them, he always adds. Surely HE had nothing to do with such perfection, apart from the green eyes, of course.) He kisses the glass gently and nestles the frame back into its prominent position. _There! Everyone is safe and I can get back to work._

Just as he is reaching for the last file that he needs to handle tonight, a quiet voice almost gives him a heart attack! "Ah, Bough. I'm so happy to see you so happy."

Angus surges to his feet, whirls, and drops into a reflex defense position without even thinking about it. Just as his lungs are swelling with the necessary oxygen in order to carry out his attack, his eyes pick out a vague shape slouched against his locked door.

His eyes widen. He stands up straight and his eyes widen further. After only a moment of stunned silence, he leaps forward with a glad cry, "Sir!" and sweeps Johnny English into his arms.

Johnny is laughing as they waltz around the office for several moments before the gentle reproof is murmured, "Yes, yes, Bough. We're just old friends, after all, and not on our honeymoon."

Angus laughs with delight and steps back to look his old friend, mentor, and former superior officer up and down, "You've lost weight, sir. Are you taller? Is that possible?"

Johnny laughs low in his throat, "Yes, I've lost weight. Nothing like the love of a good woman to keep a man fit and in fighting trim. As for being taller, I'm not sure. It wouldn't surprise me, though. What about you? I see you have a family now. Keeping you on your toes, are they?"

"Oh, yes, they do! How a dullard like me could sire three such brain boxes, I'm sure I don't know! But…" he falters, looks apprehensive. "But why are you here now, after so many years?" He frowns, "Are you in trouble? Do you need my help in some way?"

Johnny takes his old comrade-in-arms by the shoulders and intones, "My dear Bough, how well you know me even after all this time. Yes, I am in trouble, and yes, I do need your help. Tell me, my old friend, are you willing to answer the clarion call of duty to Queen and country once more?"

Bough's shining eyes slowly dim and his smile falters, "Duty? Do you mean…?"

"Yes, Angus. I mean I have been called out of retirement due to catastrophic mayhem on the spy-front. I must hie to England once more and I would feel so much safer if you were at my side. What say you?"

"Oh, sir! I can't. Not now. I have a wife and children to consider not to mention my duties here on Saint-Marie. The Commissioner wouldn't last a day without me and his D.I. would blame me for whatever disasters occur in my absence. He's scary in his own right but she is down-right terrifying."

Dark eyes regard him with regret, "Ah, I see. You have lost your edge, my boy."

Bough shakes his head sadly, "I haven't lost my edge, sir. I have found my true purpose in life and it involves taking care of the people I love the most."

Johnny slaps a hand over his heart, "Oh, Bough! You wound me."

Angus sighs, "Sorry but I really don't think I can just go off on a jaunt with you, risking life and limb, knowing my wife will murder me if I survive!"

Johnny holds up a finger, "Ah! Life and limb. Excellent! I have something here that may persuade you otherwise." He takes an envelope out of his inner jacket-pocket and hands it over. Bough takes it to his desk and opens it to read. His brow clears and now he looks puzzled.

"Am I to understand that…?"

"Yes, you are. And now, if you are willing to come with me, I need you to help me with the next step of our mission which may be the most dangerous part of all."

Bough folds the contents up, slips it back into the envelope, and hands it back to Johnny, "And what is that, may I ask?"

Johnny lays a hand on Bough's arm and murmurs, "You must help me persuade Richard to join us."

Bough's eyes fly open in shock, "Richard?! But… but… Camille!"

Johnny nods in commiseration, "Yes, indeed. Camille."

To be continued after I see the movie in 2 days


	9. Chapter 9

**author's note: I've seen it twice (so far) in packed theatres with energetic crowds of all ages, laughing, snorting, and applauding. I don't know what movie the so-called critics have been watching but the public is loving JE3 here in my neck of the woods. Next time I go, I am going to shout out 'Bough' and to heck with whichever family member is cringing beside me! I'm proud to be a fan and I don't care who knows it**

Part 2 of 18

It's late even by 'island time'. The children have all been put to bed, the Bough young'uns bunking down with the Poole hellions. Doris finally comes out to the candle-lit terrace once the last pair of green eyes has closed for good and falls into the vacant chair awaiting her at the table.

The three other women turn to her with raised eyebrows and Doris laughs, "They are all finally asleep, the dears. God bless 'em and Erzuli watch over 'em."

Camille and Celeste snort, a sound that would surprise anyone who didn't know them well but not their long-suffering husbands in the least. "I don't know how you manage it," Celeste says, pouring Doris a hot cup of tea, "especially when they all get together like this."

Camille laughs, "Well, it helps that I nailed all their bedroom windows shut before you got here. Now we at least stand a chance of seeing them trying to sneak off on one of their adventures." She lays a hand over Celeste's, "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming here to stay with me. You too, Maman," she says to the shadow nearest the ocean. "I would be going out of my mind if I didn't have all of you here with me."

Maman stirs, "None of us should be alone at such a time. Imagine the nerve of those men, sneaking off on a mid-life crisis like this! I will certainly have something to say when they get back!"

"IF they get back," Celeste gulps, holding her baby-bump and her sudden tears. Camille and Doris lean in to pat Celeste's back and look to Catherine's shadow.

Catherine stirs, candle light flickering over her eyes as she turns to face them, "They will return. I have been assured that they will be watched over with the utmost care."

Camille hems, glances to the other women who shrug back, "About that, Maman. I read your letter, as did Celeste, but I still don't understand how Erzuli can possibly…"

"Not Erzuli. Not in Europe. There are others almost as old who can be called upon with Erzuli's help." Catherine gives the two younger women a knowing glance, "Erzuli is MOST solicitous of your men," her eyes flick up to the darkened (sealed) windows on the second floor, "and of your children." She stretches and sighs, "I'm sure the men are having a great time, roaring around in fast cars, flirting with femme fatales, drinking exotic drinks. They will have such stories to tell!"

"But, Maman," Camille hesitates, looks to Celeste who nods, "they all had to sign a non-disclosure contract right in front of us. There's no way they can ever tell us anything."

Catherine gives a soft snort of her own and looks back out to sea, "You are no daughter of mine if you can't make a man tell you anything in bed."

Camille's stunned silence is broken by Celeste's laugh, "You are right, Madame English. I have every intention of prying all of my husbands' secrets out of him at the first opportunity." She turns to face Camille's outraged countenance, "As do YOU, Madame Poole."

Doris bursts out laughing, "Oh, you know it! I think I'll take my holidays whenever the mister returns. You won't mind, will you, Camille?"

Camille drinks deep of her tea in order to hide her sudden blush, "Um, sure, if you want."

Catherine laughs too, "And I will take all the children off to Saba for a while, if you like. I'm sure the house staff won't mind being run off their feet by my dear grand-babies and their closest friends."

Camille, Doris, and Celeste share a smug glance. No, the Saba house staff will NOT mind. Not if they know what is good for them.

Everyone settles back into their chairs and watches the sea roll endlessly in.

Out there, somewhere, three dearly beloved men are risking life and limb in whatever fool errand they are currently on. The gods had BETTER be watching over them! And, once they return home, solemn vows have already been made to keep them home forever after.

By whatever means possible.

End – part 2


	10. Chapter 10

Part 3 of 18

**author's note: I've seen it twice more now and it gets better each time! I know what I'm giving out for Christmas presents too if it's on the market in time.**

At the station

Dwayne and Fidel have watched Camille fidget for three days now. It's very hard to concentrate on the total lack of crime when your D.I. is on tender hooks! Dwayne leans over to Fidel and mutters, "Funny, isn't it? You'd think we'd be used to this by now after all the years we had to keep HIM calm in that seat. I wonder what he's up to right now? Having the time of his life, I imagine."

Fidel nods, "They must have gotten their secret mission plans and be out somewhere dodging other spies and wearing tuxedos by now." He then stands to fetch Camille a tea. It will help calm her and him too. Being the Sergeant Detective means taking care of your D.I. and he takes his responsibilities VERY seriously. He puts the cup and saucer down in front of her unseeing eyes and murmurs, "Here you are, a nice cup of tea to help you get through the morning."

Camille stares at the cup then up into Fidel's eyes and he knows he hasn't helped her at all!

"Oh. Tea. Thank you, Fidel." She even attempts to drink it just to be polite but she has to clatter it down and cover her eyes. Fidel looks to Dwayne for help. Dwayne rushes to her desk and pats her back all the while giving Fidel chastising looks. _Tea? Really?_ Fidel shrugs and removes the offending libation.

Camille looks up, sees Dwayne, and chuffs a shaky laugh, "Do you know what he told me just before he left?" Dwayne gulps and shakes his head. "He told me to be sure and have cross words with you. Isn't that strange?"

Dwayne frowns, "Cross words?" He pauses, thinks for a bit then hesitantly asks, "Did he really mean cross words, do you think? I'm only askin' because, knowing the chief, he mighta meant somethin' else."

"Could be. And he also told me to watch you very carefully in case you need to turn to Mama Pru for help with the cross words. Isn't that strange too?"

"Mama Pru? You sure?"

"Yes. Whatever could he have meant? Oh, that man is a puzzle to the very end!"

"Well, there's Mama Pru's daily column for the lovelorn in the newspaper. Let's take a look."

He rustles the paper open to the back and scans the pertinent page, "Hmmm, nothing here that meets the eye. That's odd, here's a typo. Mama Pru is usually very careful about that sorta thing."

"A typo? What does it say?"

"It says pile driver 21D."

Camille jerks upright in her chair, "What?"

"Yeah. Why? Does that mean somethin' to you?"

"No! What could it possibly mean to me? But 21D. What could THAT mean?"

Dwayne studies her carefully but is already thinking about the chief and how his mind works, "21D. 21 down? As in 21 down… in a crossword?" The newspaper is torn apart and spread on her desktop as three heads jostle for room to peer at the tiny type.

Fidel bugles, "Here it is! 21 down… 21 down… um, 'where you keep your will'." He looks up to Dwayne, "This is your bailiwick, not mine! Go to it, Dwayne."

Dwayne licks his pencil point and goes to work. Within minutes he's filled in everything that he needs to solve 21 down. He looks up in triumph, "Safe! The word is 'safe', where you keep your will! Ooo, clever." He looks up to Camille, "But what does that mean to us?"

Camille slumps in relief, "When is the paper printed?"

"Um, I think 24 hours ahead of time. So that means…"

Fidel perks up, "That means the Chief had to have set this up before he left and…"

Dwayne snaps his fingers, "And he has to get the clue sent in at least 24 hours before it gets printed so…"

Camille laughs, "So it means they were safe 48 hours ago. Oh, thank god!"

Fidel marvels, "Only the Chief would think of something so labyrinthine and right up our respective alleys as a team! What a guy! Do you think he'll send us clues every day?"

"If he can," Camille murmurs.

Every day after that, the Saint-Marie newspaper is picked up in person at the print shop and the crossword solved right there on the sidewalk then there is a wild Google Search back at the station to fill in the blank spots… and what a wondrous story the blank spots tell!

End – part 3


	11. Chapter 11

Part 4 of 18

The next day, Island time

"Hmm, 'baguette'. What do you think?" Dwayne looks up to Camille and Fidel.

"Obvious," Fidel snorts, "They're hungry."

"No. They're in France. Dwayne, check Google. Anything odd happen in France 48 hours ago?"

"Nothing, really. Oh, here's a note about a near conflagration at a restaurant. It was the quick action of a passer-by that prevented total destruction. The mayor of the town is looking for the man to give him an award but the mysterious stranger vanished leaving only a folded white handkerchief behind with the head waiter."

"A handkerchief? Really?"

"Yeah. Weird, hey?"

"It was Richard! I'm sure of it! Well, now we know what to look for! Keep searching!"

Minutes later, Dwayne has found another odd news story, "Hey! Someone took out a gaggle of French cyclists in the hills above that restaurant that almost burnt down. Something here about tear gas and a red car and someone apologizing out the window as they drove past. Oh! And a white handkerchief handed to the lead cyclist by a mysterious mustached man!"

Camille blinks, "Mustached? You sure?"

"Yep. Three men were seen in the car. The one with lip fungus was in the back seat." Dwayne sits back and sighs, "Do you still think it was the Chief?"

"Let me believe it was so I can sleep tonight, OK?"

The two men share a worried look, "Um, OK" they both agree in the same breath.

On the way to Southern France, 48 hours earlier

Angus feels a bit like a ping pong ball, "Yes, sir. No, sir, not you, sir. You, sir." Johnny finally loses his temper and scolds him for being unable to emphasis WHICH sir he means.

From the back seat of the red car, Richard finally takes pity of the poor man and makes a suggestion, "Look, since I'm acting as the gofer on this mission whenever I'm not pretending to be you, Angus, why don't you just call me 'Rich'? It's familiar enough that I should remember to answer to it."

Angus pales at the impertinence, "Oh, sir! I couldn't. Really, I couldn't."

"Well, you bloody well better think of something!" Johnny admonishes. "Seconds count on a mission and we can't waste time deciding which of us you are speaking to."

"He's right," Richard agrees. "Besides, you would never call me 'Rich' once we're back home so it's all good."

Angus swallows and tries the name out, "Rich. Rich. Oh, it feels so strange."

Richard claps him on the back, "You'll get used to it." He leans back with a happy sigh, "Besides, ANY thing is better than Dick."

Johnny and Angus flash outraged looks at one another, eyebrows speaking volumes. Neither man dares to ask.

Southern France, Hotel Magnifique, Cap Antibe

Johnny is booked into a lovely suite of rooms. Richard (resplendent in bushy fake mustache that would do a walrus proud) and Angus are booked into a broom closet with only one bed.

"Oh, dear," Angus sighs, laying down his suitcase.

"Yes, indeed," Richard echoes then claps his hands together briskly, "Well, there's nothing for it. With any luck, we'll not be here at the same time. Come on, let's get dressed. It's almost show time!"

They quickly unpack and dress in identical clothes. Angus helps Richard out of his mustache. Richard goes down to collect the fax they'd requested and takes it out to Johnny. Angus tosses the rooms of everyone on their suspect list but can't find anything suspicious.

Slipping downstairs, Angus spies Richard and Johnny talking by a hedge. Going to the other side of the hedge, Angus gets their attention, "Psst, no luck with the rooms. I think the search needs a professional clue-finder. That would be you, sir… Rich. Oh, it sounds so strange…"

Johnny nods, "Richard, you go look everything over since you have the knack of ESP detecting." At Richard's look, Johnny chuckles, "I've heard the stories, dear boy. Your man Fidel is most boastful of your skills. Off you go. You have the list and the Master Key. Angus, I have need of your special skills in getting that cell phone. Meet me in back of the restaurant, please."

So it was that when Richard slips back down to the restaurant half an hour later to report his findings, he is just in the nick of time to prevent a fire-storm by the expedient of a sturdy leather shoe firmly pressed onto a flaming prawn. He sets his private scheme in motion by handing his handkerchief to the astonished head-waiter. Once back in his room, he fills his pockets with folded white handkerchiefs. If tonight was any indication of Johnny's technique, he is going to need every single one of these little white calling cards before the week is out!

End – Part 4


	12. Chapter 12

Part 5 of 18

Next morning, at a phone booth in a sleepy little village

Richard runs from shop to shop along the little street, getting change and racing out to hand it to Johnny before haring off to the next shop. When they have the pertinent information, he collapses into the car's back seat and naps all the way to their next destination where they stake out the yacht and take turns watching it while the others rest and find meals.

For his part, Richard is thrilled to be on a spy stake-out. Within the hour he is reminded of how utterly BORING stake-outs are… and how utterly impossible it is to find a proper cup of tea anywhere that isn't British!

That evening

Richard is flattened in the back seat by the exploding raft and almost asphyxiates before he is rescued. The shock to his system causes him to elect to stay with the car where he watches through binocs. He is enthralled to see them climb the side of the yacht but then sees them captured. He wonders if this is part of Johnny's plan and decides to stay put. When he sees the crew find the little raft and sink it, he frets himself into action.

He scours the pier and shore line, finds a little boat, jump starts the tiny motor and sneaks out onto the dark water, staying well out from the yacht and hiding in the shadows. For all he knows, Johnny and Angus might be able to swim underwater like otters! Who knows the skills of British spies? Certainly not a lowly non-spy such as Richard Poole.

But his concern is proven correct when Angus bolts out of nowhere and hurls himself into the water. Richard flashes his red laser measuring device. Angus indeed dives and comes up beside the boat just like an otter and startles Richard mightily! As he guides Angus up over the gunnel, Richard mutters, "Does Celeste know you have gills?"

Angus wipes water out of his eyes, "No and don't you tell her. That's a classified secret!" They grin to each other than hear a loud splash. Security muscle rushes to the side closest to them and scans the water but they scan fruitlessly as Johnny is nowhere to be seen!

Angus moans, "If they throw a spotlight this way, they are sure to see us!" Faintly, they hear another splash but it is on the other side of the yacht. The security men rush away and do set up a searchlight but now they are looking in the wrong direction. Richard and Angus are now seriously worried. Where is Johnny?

Just as Angus is getting ready to slip back over the side, Johnny's head breaks the surface only a few yards away. He is spluttering and coughing but the noise is masked by the shouting and orders being hurled about on the yacht. Another splash is heard from the far side. Whatever is distracting them is doing a good job but they need to leave!

Together they fish Johnny out of the water and escape. By the time they get ashore, the searchlight is playing over the place they'd been but they are already gone up the steps and melted into the night. Ghosts. Phantoms. Spies in Her Majesty's Secret Service!

Angus is chaffing Johnny's frozen hands in the back seat of their car as Richard drives them quietly away with the headlights off and the powerful motor barely purring. Johnny comes to and quips, "So, she let us go, eh, Bough?"

"Oh, yes indeed. Perhaps the old English charm is at work, sir?"

"Perhaps." A long loud pause, then, "Don't tell Catherine."

Both men cross their hearts.

As Richard carefully maneuvers them through the night, he says back over his shoulder, "And what about you, Johnny? I know Angus has gills but I didn't think you could swim."

A long silence from the back seat and finally Johnny says low, "I can't. Not a stroke."

Richard thinks about this for a moment, "Then, how did you…?"

Johnny puts a hand on Richard's shoulder, "I will deny this to my dying day but…" both men frown, "… something came up beneath me and carried me." Now both men gawp in surprise.

Johnny chortles weakly. Being gawped at by identical pairs of green eyes is quite novel, "Yes, it was two, perhaps three, somethings. Very sleek. Very firm. Roughly man-sized. They lifted me up, caught at my vest, and brought me out to the boat. What do you think of that, eh?"

Angus puzzles it, "So those splashes that we heard on the other side of the yacht, the noises that drew off the search, that wasn't you?"

Johnny shakes his head, "Nope. I didn't hear it, of course, but if several somethings were helping me on one side of the yacht, what's to stop several other somethings from decoying our enemies to the other side of the yacht?"

Angus meets Richard's eyes in the rear-view mirror. Both men daren't speculate but Richard finally nods and says, "Um, that letter you showed us, the one that Catherine gave you…"

Johnny nods, "Yes, my boy. I believe that might have been our first 'help' on that front. Which god or goddess holds sway over dolphins in these waters?"

Angus keeps absolutely mum. Talk of this sort has always disturbed him deeply back on the island. He knows Celeste has her own opinions but he is a god-fearing man and he'd rather not think about this sort of thing at all!

Richard scoffs, "Take your pick! Every nation has their water gods."

Johnny rolls down the window, leans out, and calls down to the dark sea below, "Thank you, whichever one of you did that! Was it you, Neptune? I will let Erzuli know…"

Angus drags him back inside and cranks the window back up. He pats Johnny and settles him, "Best not to address yourself directly to the elements, sir. You don't actually want them answering back, now do you?" His voice is calm but the whites of his eyes show in the dark.

Johnny flashes Richard an amused look via the mirror then answers, "You are entirely correct, my good man. I will let Catherine do it for me once we are back home. Let us return to our hotel. We've had enough adventure for one night. Let's get some sleep and be back at it first thing in the morning."

End – part 5


	13. Chapter 13

Part 6 of 18

"Dolphin?" Dwayne ventures, "Does that mean anything to anyone?"

They all shake their heads.

"Google dolphin and south of France and handkerchief," Camille suggests.

He does and sits back with a sigh, "Well, if this doesn't beat all! Here's an odd little story about dolphins dancin' on the waves by moonlight, a sight not seen in decades and certainly not so close to shore. A folded white handkerchief was found aboard a little boat that was reported stolen then found nearby. Several more handkerchiefs were also found in all the little shops in a village just several miles up the coast." He reads a bit then nods, "Someone has started a story about 'the polite man' and his travels."

Fidel grins, "The Polite Man, I like that."

Next morning, dock side

Once more hiding behind the mustache with dark glasses added to hide his distinctive eyes, Richard is enjoying the warm sun on his skin as Johnny and Angus watch the yacht. He listens to their conversation with half an ear. He is missing Camille most awfully. Last night, he'd awakened in the night to find that he'd spooned Angus rather aggressively. He'd slide out of the tiny bed in a panic and finished the night on the floor. When they'd awakened, Angus had frowned and apologized for tossing Richard out of bed.

Richard didn't have the nerve to tell him the truth, "That's all right. Tonight you get the floor, if we're still here." Angus had nodded and then they'd gone to get Johnny and begin the surveillance.

 _How I miss this_ , Richard thinks, basking in the heat. He opens his eyes to see Angus watching him. Both men smile in agreement and the conversation turns to their home island and their wives.

"Spy work is all well and good but it isn't meant for married men with families," Johnny murmurs. "The risks, the dangers, the ladies…" He sits up suddenly, "Speaking of which, here comes the lady in question right now. Right, gentlemen, load up. We're off on our first probable car chase! Let's see what British automotive ingenuity can do when matched with a nose hair trimmer!"

Southern France, somewhere in the hills

Richard is jigging in the back seat of the red sport car and matching Johnny swear word for swear word as they try to get around the clot of French bikers. The tinny sound of their car horn gets only amused looks over the shoulders of the cyclists at the back of the pack.

"Miserable people, the French. Can't be trusted and they have no manners whatso…"

Johnny's command to arm the missiles catches Richard in mid-rant. He and Angus share a dismayed look but the missile is launched before either man can think of anything to say. As Johnny motors serenely through the pack of coughing choking men, Richard has just enough time to thrust his calling card into the hand of the only man left standing.

Leaning out the window, he calls back at the astounded Frenchman, "So sorry!"

"Really, Richard, you'll only encourage them," Johnny gently exhorts.

Richard and Angus cover their eyes (those brilliant green eyes) and groan.

END – part 6


	14. Chapter 14

Part 7 of 18

A bit later

Richard is leaning over the back of the front seat and urging Johnny on in the car chase, giving advice and telling him when to brake and when to floor it! "This is almost as much fun as the Guadeloupe Demolition Derby I once attended years ago with Camille! How thrilling, how exciting, how…"

He is just as aghast as Angus when the car sputters to a juddering halt by the roadside. The object of the chase rolls back to meet them with such stealth that Richard has only time for a stifled oath before he dives to the floor and covers his head.

The resultant spy-banter does not hint at the Russian spy's awareness of a third person in the red car. Richard holds his breath and listens most furiously. If there is a clue to be found in any of this, he is the man to find it!

When the woman buzzes off (it does indeed sound like a nose hair trimmer!), Richard counts to ten then pops back up, smiling and pleased with himself, "Whew, that was close! So what's next?"

"Next?" Johnny sighs. "Next, I keep my date with the femme fatale and you two earn your keep by impersonating one another. Oh, and Bough? It IS your duty to keep the car gassed up."

As Angus looks at Johnny in wounded silence, Richard leaps right in, "Johnny! I was right there when Angus asked you about gas and you said…"

Johnny squinches his eyes shut and waves a peevish hand, "Yes, yes, yes! All right!" He looks at the two men, so alike in many ways and yet so different, and sighs. "Yes, Richard, you're right. Sorry, Angus. Richard has obviously come to trust your judgement implicitly and so should I. From now on, you do whatever you need to keep me on the straight and narrow. All right?"

Angus smiles, nods then turns to look back at Richard. He mouths 'Thank you' just moments before Johnny groans and says, "Nothing for it, lads. We'll have to push the car from here."

And, by 'we', he means 'not me'.

At the Hotel de Paris, night

A red car rolls silently out of the warm night and up to the front entrance. Two quite lovely profiles are pushing if anyone is lucky enough to notice… lucky enough to notice and observant enough to appreciate.

Angus goes into the bar with Johnny and then retraces his steps, picks up Richard in the lobby and together they search the woman's room. Angus is amazed at Richard's innate ability to find whatever there is to find. Later, in the bar, he tells Johnny, "He has an uncanny knack, sir. You'll never guess what he found!"

Angus is a bit disappointed. He'd snuck up on Johnny like an invisible zephyr and Johnny hadn't even noticed! Well, he'll try the move on Celeste when he gets home. It never hurts to keep your spouse on her toes! Just when he is finishing up his report, he feels a presence at his back and turns to find Richard has joined them, his mustache firmly in place and his hat pulled down over his eyes.

Johnny's eyes light up suddenly, "Gentlemen, may I offer you some nuts?" Moments later he is alone in the bar once more, shaking his head, _Oh, I am a very bad man! What comes over me, I wonder?_ His guilt finally overcomes his puckishness and he goes to their room and knocks but there is no answer.

Unbeknownst to him, they do not even have a bathroom. They are downstairs, taking turns splashing water onto their faces as they gasp in response to whatever atomic hell Johnny had tricked them into eating! Only a united raid on the kitchen to procure a bottle of milk can calm the fire in their mouths. As they go to their room, they both pant and vow retribution!

What with the full day and the shocking assault on their taste buds, they are asleep within moments of their heads hitting the sole pillow and so… miss all the fun.

End – part 7


	15. Chapter 15

**Part 8 of 18**

Next morning

Richard groans himself awake. He is stiff and sore. Pushing a car isn't as easy as it sounds! As he sits up and rubs his eyes, he notices Angus is on the floor, rolled up in their spare blanket. He sighs, reaches down and prods the man's shoulder.

Angus rolls over and groans, sits up, scrubs his face and says, "Ah, good morning. I hope you had a better night's rest than I did. Sorry, but the bed got a little crowded so I slipped out."

Richard grins ruefully, "We'd have no trouble sharing this bed with our wives, would we?"

Angus grins back, "No, indeed. More's the pity."

Richard stands and stretches, "Do you think Johnny will let us take a day off for a quick flight home? Even for a few hours?"

Angus folds up his impromptu bed and stows it in the closet, "Unfortunately, no. Once he's on a mission, nothing can deter him. He's totally driven and cannot be distracted. He's a bit like you in that regard, sir, Rich, oh…" He shakes his head.

Richard smiles and finishes dressing. He would never admit it but it's nice to be appreciated. Then he looks at his watch, "Speaking of Johnny, it's odd that he isn't here chivvying us to hurry up, don't you think?" He turns to the mirror and presses his facial disguise into place.

Angus pauses in dressing and looks at his own watch, "Yes, it is. Why don't you bring around the car and I'll call MI7 for an update. Perhaps they will have the information on that yacht. Then we'll find agent English and have a nice leisurely breakfast, hmm?"

Richard snugs his cap down and waggles his mustache, "Sounds like a plan."

The race back to London

They don't get breakfast. They barely manage to get into the car before it is throwing gravel up into the sky and fish-tailing down the driveway. They hang on for dear life as the car screams around hair-pin turns and passes other vehicles where there isn't the slightest chance of actually passing.

Angus tries to focus agent English on the speed limit but once the traffic cop is knocked akimbo he gives up. He casts a worried look back to Richard and yells, "It's those green pills! I knew I should have labeled them! What a fool I am to not have done it!"

Richard is holding his cap and white-knuckling the grab-bar above his door, "Not your fault! Everyone knows red means stop and green means go!" He casts a look at the feverish man behind the wheel, "Except him, it seems! I say, Johnny! Slow down, man!"

"It's no use, sir, Rich, oh… He can't hear you. He's flying on those pills. The only good thing is that his reflexes are also sped up to match. I have to be ready to grab the wheel if the pills wear off before we reach London, that's all."

"Oh, is THAT all?!" Richard gulps. "In that case, I think I'll just lay down here and dream of home. Good luck, Angus." He dives down onto the back seat and covers his head, hoping like hell that they don't die a fiery death.

They don't… but it's a near thing. Richard isn't sure which gods are responsible for road conditions but he's ready to offer up thanks to whatever allows them to arrive safely.

Meanwhile

"Hmm," Dwayne mutters, "This one is tricky. What does 'londonbridge' mean, do you suppose?"

Camille and Fidel fix him with scoffing eyes, "It means they are back in England," she snorts.

"Quick," Fidel turns to his computer screen, "Let's Google 'odd happenings' in England and see what we find."

Moments later they are reading with amazement.

End – part 8


	16. Chapter 16

**JE3 dvd scheduled for January 22, 2019 release! There may even be a 3-movie special edition. Mark your calendars and stock up.**

 **Part 9 of 18**

London

Back once more at MI7 headquarters, Richard does his best to stay out of sight but he is spotted by several people who mistake him for Angus (naturally). He is reduced to scuttling about the halls, nodding and waving to people who call out to him. After the fourth or fifth incident of mistaken identity, he slips outside onto a side street and slouches against a wall to wait for his summons. He watches the crowds filtering in and out of a bookstore and just enjoys the non-spy peace and quiet.

Virtual Reality

So it is that Richard is in the perfect totally unexpected position of watching Johnny come out of MI7's south entrance wearing a most peculiar rig over his face. Richard has seen such tech while cruising on-line during slow periods at the station. _That is a Virtual Reality headset_ , he thinks as he watches Johnny step out into traffic. His heart catches up with him as he darts out after Johnny and clears the way for him to proceed.

Richard is just mopping his brow and trying to get his heart rate back down under 100 when he sees Johnny enter the book store and disappear. Muffling a most uncharacteristic oath, he dashes in just in time to pick up a groggy man from the floor. A nearby patron points to the elevator and Richard sees the floor indicator falling to the next level down.

Thrusting a handkerchief into the dazed man's hands, Richard storms into the stairwell and comes crashing out and almost falls over another man down for the count. He hauls this man to his feet, hands him another handkerchief then sees a crowd of people, moms and children mostly, cowering on the floor in front of an overturned table amid scattered heaps of dark blue books with golden lettering. Another patron points to a second stairwell while helping the shaken author back to his feet.

Richard pauses for the barest nano-second. The author reminds him of someone… but who? No time to waste! Richard charges up the stairs, hearing stealthy footsteps then a closing door. Behind him, he hears a strident voice raised in angry rant, "Is this any way to run a bookstore? I'm telling you, once I'm back in the Cotswolds, you will never winkle me out again!"

Back on the street once more, there is no sign of Johnny. Seconds count so he closes his eyes and listens most carefully. The mayhem happening across the street at a bakery is plain to hear. Richard leaps over a leashed dog on his way across, vaulting in through the front door to see Johnny wrestling with a little old woman in a wheelchair. Reversing slick as an eel, Richard makes it to the side door just in time to catch the wheelchair as it shoots out at speed. He shoves yet another handkerchief into the shocked woman's hand and mumbles, "I'm most terribly sorry, ma'am. Do accept my most abject apologies."

There's no time for more. He races into the store only to see Johnny's back disappearing out onto the street. He has hardly enough time to drop a handkerchief onto the downed clerk's chest as he charges outside and manages to catch the bus as it pulls away.

Trembling with delayed reaction, Richard hauls himself onto the step and pushes through the crowd that is straining to look up the stairway to the top level. "Pardon me, excuse me, pardon me," he chants as he forces himself through the scrum. His head is barely above the top step on the roof level when his eyes flare in alarm and he dives back down the stairs without a word. Leaping the startled passengers, he catapults out the door and onto the sidewalk, almost falling to his knees.

He looks frantically about and sees the bus must have gone in a circle because they are right back where they'd started. Then he sees the wheelchair grandmother fanning herself with his handkerchief. He surges to his feet and rushes her, gently but swiftly lifting her to her feet and whisking the wheelchair right out from under her. He spins like an acrobat and speeds back to the bus just in time to catch the falling tour guide, surely saving him from serious injury.

He pulls the man to his feet, shoves a handkerchief into his hand, apologizes most sincerely then returns the wheelchair to the woman who is looking at him in wonder, "How did you know to do that?" she quavers.

Richard smiles as bravely as he can despite having no oxygen in his lungs, flips a nonchalant hand, "All in a day's work, ma'am." He reseats her then hears approaching sirens. Time to go. He checks all around. Plenty of witnesses but no casualties. He sees Johnny re-entering MI7 by the same door and huffs a huge sigh of relief. Then he sees people pointing at him and realizes it really is time to go! He dekes down an alley and fades from public view.

He is sitting at an outdoor café several streets over, his mustache in his pocket, savouring a true cup of real tea when the call comes in. It's time to meet up with his partners-in-crime and move on to the next leg of their mission. He tells them where to pick him up and finishes his tea with relish. No way does he want to meet up with any of the witnesses to his heroics of only minutes ago.

The Polite Man saga

The little story of 'the polite man' starts taking on steam; first southern France and now London! London witnesses are all a-twitter. French witnesses are tracked down and interviewed again. A very consistent description is starting to form. Several theories abound as to his motives but no one argues over his means. He's a hero, plain and simple, saving young and old alike. Where will The Polite Man strike next?

Back home, the team marvels.

"He's gonna go ballistic when he sees these articles," Dwayne laughs.

Camille is too busy clipping and gluing into a scrapbook to answer.

End – part 9


	17. Chapter 17

**Part 10 of 18**

On the way to Surrey

Once on their way, Angus turns to Richard and muses, "You know, I had an odd meeting with Pegasus just before we left. He seemed to think I was some sort of super-spy with the ability to be in 2 or 3 places at once. Odd, hey?"

Richard grins, "Very odd, indeed! Did he offer you a permanent spy-hood?"

"Strangely enough, he did. I had to turn him down, of course. My heart and soul resides in Saint-Marie and there is NO way I'd move the family back here. It's much too crowded and cold and frantic." He settles back onto the buttery-soft leather of his seat and sighs, "Besides, I could never leave you or my duties." He glances to Johnny, "Sorry, sir."

Johnny gives a weary smile, "No need to apologize, my boy. I agree with you one hundred percent. I could never leave Saba permanently." He meets Richard's eyes in the rear-view mirror, "Do you know, I don't think our wives would shine quite so brightly in this dull place, do you?"

Angus and Richard both frown and try to envision their angels wrapped up in wool and leather and layers and layers of clothing. They can't do it.

Surrey

Richard and Angus crouch in the hedge and watch Johnny enter the side door. They cautiously circle around, following his progress through the glass walls of the building. "I'd hate to pay his heating bill," Richard murmurs into Angus' ear. Angus nods. They lose track of Johnny for a while but then see him being held at gun-point by Bulletova and being grilled by Volta.

Angus tenses up. "We need to create a diversion so agent English can escape," he rasps just as three massive black dogs canter into view, making the rounds as trained. Angus groans, "There's our diversion but I really don't fancy being mauled by those brutes." He is just easing out of the shrubbery when a hand stops him. He looks up into his mirror-image.

"Don't bother, Angus. I'm the one with the track record, not you. I'll lead the dogs away. You stay and help Johnny get out of his fix." Angus nods and Richard sidles away. Minutes later, Angus hears a quiet furor coming from the other side of the estate. He creeps up to the glass wall to watch agent English more closely and is almost spotted by the entering security man. As he slithers up behind the man, he snatches up a small stone from a rockery.

Inside, Johnny turns just in time to see the security man enter from outside. A sudden motion down behind the man's knees catches his attention and he sees a sleek leather-clad arm hook in from around the door's edge and drop something into the door-track, something small that will keep the door from locking shut. Seeing his chance, Johnny grabs Bulletova's cell phone and charges the door, kicking the obstruction out of the track just in time for it to lock in the face of the pursuing security man.

As Johnny runs, he sees neither hide nor hair of whichever man has rescued him. He is almost sure it was Bough but not totally certain. Richard has shown great promise and it might very well have been him. Regardless, he makes for the front gate, confident that his partners will make their own way back to London.

The chase

Richard is running for his life. Never has he been so motivated to keep ahead of his opponents. He glances back and marvels at how silently the dogs run and how their teeth glint in their canine grins. _Judging by their festive mien, I'm almost sure they've been trained to take down and restrain, not to kill_ , is his detached thought as the hedge comes into view once more and, behind it, the estate wall.

He is just calmly determining if he can vault to the wall's lip or will he need to ricochet off one of the trees when his concentration is totally shattered by the sudden appearance of several small animals that race out from the hedgerow. He continues on and reaches the hedge but something - some sound or lack of sound or soundless sound - makes him spin around to witness something wonderful.

End – part 10


	18. Chapter 18

Part 11 of 18

A line of hares has formed between him and the dogs.

The dogs have halted and are staring at the hares that stare back. Absolute fearlessness radiates off both groups of animals. The drove of hard-muscled lapines takes a step forward. The dogs take a step back then rally and begin to advance. The hares bristle up and Richard can see there is going to be blood-shed. He glances around, sees a stout branch and picks it up. He steps forward to join forces in facing the enemy.

There is a sudden silence that feels too deep to be an actual absence of sound… almost like something is re-evaluating the situation and thinking things over.

The deep quiet thickens.

He sees the dog's eyes raising to him now. No, not to him, to something behind him. A tiny snap of a twig causes Richard to jerk in atavistic fear. He spins, club raised, and freezes. Right behind him, seemingly materialized out of thin air, is a stag. Richard shakes his head and lowers his weapon. Not merely a stag, no, never that. This is a hoary immense animal with an incredible rack of antlers ivory with age and honed to razor-sharp points. The creature radiates power. It is also looking right at him.

Richard looks deep into eyes that haven't been seen in centuries. He senses the impossibility of this creature actually being here but he flicks a glance over his shoulder at the dogs. The dogs see this thing. They certainly do. They have lowered their heads and are lying down.

The hares don't move.

The stag passes Richard so close that their shoulders brush. The deep green eye (green?) of the stag rolls to give Richard one last amused look then it is past and picking its way delicately over the hares and up to the dogs. It drops its muzzle and licks each dog on the head. Tails stubs are wagging slowly.

One of the hares breaks formation and turns to look at Richard with an 'Are you still gumming up the works, mate?' expression that needs no interpretation.

Richard drops the branch and swarms up the nearest tree and onto the wall and over he goes. As he drops onto the cool grass, his memory catches up with him. _Green. The hare's eyes had been green. What's with all the green?_ His meditation is interrupted moments late by another rustle as Angus drops onto the grass beside him.

Richard starts to ask but Angus beats him to it, "Why are there rabbits lolloping about and why aren't the dogs chasing them?"

"Um, is that what you saw? Rabbits? Did you… did you see anything else?"

"No, why? Was there something else to see?"

"Probably not, not if you want to sleep peacefully tonight. How did you get past the dogs?"

"They were staring at the rabbits and…"

"…and?"

"Sir, Rich, oh… I swear the dogs were laughing. I know that sounds peculiar but…"

Richard shakes his head, takes Angus by the shoulder and leads him into a neighbouring grove of silent oaks, "No more peculiar than what I just witnessed." At Angus' raised eyebrow Richard glances furtively about and mutters as if worried about being overheard, "Maybe later I'll tell you." He then moves off a few paces and lowers his voice even lower, looking up at the motionless leaves, and whispers, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart." He watches and listens but there is no answer. After a moment he scoffs softly to himself. _Of course there's no answer. That's not how it works_. He turns back to Angus and rubs his hands together, "Let's get to the car and follow Johnny. I'm sure he's leaving a trail of mayhem all the way back to London."

Neither man notices the tiny rill of air that follows them in the oak canopy as they slip through the grove and out the other side into bright sunshine. Once empty, the grove seems to exude a sigh of relief and settle back into a pastoral somnolence that feels centuries old.

They find the driving instructor standing by the side of the road, pull over, and get the full story from him. Richard hands him a handkerchief and is half-way through his apology when the man glances up and says, "Are you him?"

Richard and Angus share a look. Richard prevaricates, "Um, him… who?"

"You are, aren't you? Oh my god, my wife will never believe me! Wait until I call the newspaper! Here, can I get a selfie?"

As the man fumbles for his cell phone, Richard and Angus jump back into their car and roar off. Next day, a very blurry picture of perhaps a red car is featured in the local paper. A thrilling account by a local widow-lady adds to the intrigue. The whole area basks in reflected glory for many a day.

The Polite Man! Here! With another Polite Man! How many of them are there? Is there a coven of Polite Men roving about protecting the weak and defenseless? Speculation begins to run wild and the story gains steam.

END – part 11


	19. Chapter 19

_**FFH: do you read tea leaves too?**_

 **Part 12 of 18**

Saint-Marie

"Cernunnos?" Dwayne stumbles over the odd vowels, "What in the heck is a cernunnos?"

Catherine looks up, "Cernunnos is a horned god with power over animals… a very old elemental predating the Roman gods in Britain. I believe it is a holdover from Celtic times... perhaps even Pictish. " She then gives her daughter a very satisfied look and murmurs, "It is also an ancient god of fertility," before settling back into calm silence and looking out to sea once more, already planning yet another layette.

No one has anything to say to this. Camille and Celeste's eyes meet with a mutual look of worry. They both hope things don't get out of hand. Dolphins are one thing. Horned gods are a totally different matter! They both wing a prayer skyward - _Keep our men safe! Angels and horned gods defend them!_

London

Angus returns just in time to join Johnny in meeting with the Prime Minister. Richard waits outside. He doesn't want to cause Angus any more trouble about being in two places at once. In a bit, he sees a very dejected Johnny slink out to stand in the parking lot.

Richard is just coming across the courtyard to join him when Angus lopes out and it begins to rain. By the time Richard reaches them, he is aghast to hear that Johnny has been taken off the case! The mission of over! Angus and Richard give each other horrified looks. _No! It can't possibly be over! We have all the clues! We know who the villain is! How can MI7 just kick us to the curb like this?_ They both start talking at once, trying to buck Johnny up and convince him to keep going.

"I can't," Johnny laments, "I've been ordered to stand down. The Prime Minister herself has given me strictest direction to go home and never darken England's door again!" He flaps his arms at his sides and sighs deeply, "I'm done. I'm through. I've been given a direct order…"

Angus grabs Johnny's arm, "… and you NEVER disobey a direct order, do you? Not like in 2003, 2005, 2008, twice in 2009 and again in…"

Johnny shoves Angus' hand off, "Yes, yes, all right, Bough. I was a bit of a firebrand back in the day but I'm older now. I haven't the stamina and strength to carry on like I did in my youth."

Angus stands up straight, "But you still have your courage, don't you, sir? You've still got that!" He stands up even straighter and says, "And you've still got me. Plus…" he gestures to Richard "…now we have Rich, oh… him! Surely the three of us can manage?" He lowers his voice, "Besides, I have secret information that you need to know."

Against his better judgement, Johnny leans in, "And what's that, dear boy?" Now the three of them have their heads together, conspiring once more to get up to no good for Queen and Country and the sheer hell of it.

Angus grins wolfishly, "I overheard Pegasus and the Prime Minister arranging military security for the Summit meeting. They are calling up a nuclear submarine upon which my cousin is second-in-command! That boy's always up for an adventure and I'm sure I can convince him to convince his captain to take us to Scotland on the down low."

As the three men straighten up and smile at one another, Pegasus is just looking out the window and wondering if the recent stresses haven't knocked his pins loose. He sees three men leap into a red car and race away. Three men… but only two faces. He pours himself a strong Scotch and sits in the calming dark of his office and prays there is no more excitement for at least a week!

Poor man.

END – part 12


	20. Chapter 20

Part 13 of 18

 **Back home**

"Haggis?" Dwayne looks up at Fidel, "What in the world is a 'haggis'? I'm Googlin' it!"

Fidel speaks up, "It's Scottish, some kind of horrible national dish. Anything happen in Scotland recently?" He prods Dwayne's shoulder. They scan the screen and see it at the same instant.

"A yacht? Blown to smithereens right outside the G12 Summit? And here's a photo of someone in a suit of armour and…" Dwayne peers closer, "Hey! It's Johnny! And there's Angus in front of him. And look way in the background there! Isn't that the Chief?"

Fidel leans down and stares, "How can you tell which is which?"

"Easy," Dwayne scoffs, "one looks like he's married to Celeste and the other looks like…"

"Ah," Fidel nods. Nothing more needs to be said. In fact, since Camille is just now coming into the station, nothing more had better be said very loudly! The three of them get the magnifying glass and go over the grainy photo pixel by pixel.

Fidel finally stands up and frowns, "Yep, that's the Chief, all right. Looks like he's trying to stay out of sight but something must have drawn him out of hiding. Knowing Johnny, it was probably something pretty dire."

"Why is Angus curtsying?" Camille wonders.

Fidel and Dwayne look to one another. Oh, they can't wait to hear all about it… as soon as Camille pries it out of the Chief and tells them. Too bad for the Chief but inquiring minds have to know, you know?

Apropos

The story of The Polite Man (or men) and his cohort (or càraid bhràthair) never makes it into the Sasannach world but the knowledge flashes out in all directions and many a toast is quaffed in great pride in many a drinking establishment. The sale of white handkerchiefs doubles then triples as many a young suitor wins his maid with just such a humble offering.

In a small pub just a few miles away from the castle on Loch Nevis, a framed square of snow-white linen is jealously guarded into the next generation.

Beneath the waters

Second-in-command cousin Jeremy introduces Johnny, Angus, and Richard to Captain Lydia Ogilvie who is thrilled to be involved in possible derring-do. "I hate pencil-pushers and mealy-mouthed politicians! Men of action, that's what this country needs more of!" she booms.

Later, after a very entertaining lunch in the mess, she sees Angus go over at the tea urn and steps up to him quietly, "I like the cut of your jib, sir! The strong silent type, that's you. Any chance of joining forces and becoming better acquainted?"

Angus stares at her over the rim of his mug for a long stunned moment, translating, then stammers, "I'm afraid not, sir, ma'am, Captain… married… with children."

She frowns, "Well, blimey, you might give a warning shot. Where's your wedding ring?"

"Agents are not allowed to wear it on a mission, sorry, sir, ma'am, Captain."

She sighs sadly, "Just as well, I suppose. Romance and duty don't always mix. Often rough head-winds to contend with, don't you know."

Angus manages a knowing nod, "Oh, undoubtedly. This is my last mission and I'm only here in order to keep Agent English alive."

Captain Ogilvie casts an eyebrow towards Richard who is trying very hard to be invisible against the far wall, "What about the other cove… the frightful sprog in the mustache?"

Angus smiles, "Ah. He's here to keep ME alive. Comrades-in-arms and all that."

"Hmm, I see. So, married, eh? Oh, well, can't be helped. Glad to have met you, sir. Fair sailing and calm seas to you."

Just as she turns away, Angus speaks up. He hates having misinformation out there. "Just so you know… I AM a pencil-pusher in real life, not a man of action at all. I am neither strong nor silent, not in the sense you mean."

She swings back to him and gives him a critical eye, "Hmm again. Perhaps I need to change my bearings then. You've given me something to think about, young fella me lad. Well, carry on, mind your baffles, and good luck."

Angus gets a soft tap on the aft-deck and almost drops his tea as she strides away. He sets his mug down hurriedly and glances about. No one seems to have noticed. He slumps and sighs. He can't wait to return home where he has only Celeste, the children, the office, the island, Sir and Mrs. Sir, and the Loa to deal with.

END – part 13


	21. Chapter 21

Part 14 of 18

The Loch

The three men make landfall under cover of drifting mist. Richard pushes Angus a bit too aggressively over the low wall then scrambles up to join them at the base of a stone tower. Richard watches in fascination as Johnny dons the exo-skeleton and disappears up the sheer stone wall. He is just turning back to ask Angus a question when Johnny suddenly catapults out of the tower, soars overhead, and lands with a subdued 'ga-loop' into the waters behind them.

Angus leaps to his feet but Richard is already over the wall and down into the raft, calling back, "You keep an eye on things. I'll fish Johnny out!" He paddles like a madman out to where the widening ripples are dying down. He casts about. There is no sign of Johnny.

Belatedly, Richard realizes that the exo-skeleton must weigh a lot. Johnny will have sunk like a stone. He gulps and sits back in terror. Johnny is going to a watery grave unless _… I'm going to have to go into the water! I'm going to have to dive down! Even if I find Johnny in the peat-black waters, will I be able to raise him up again? No matter! It has to be attempted!_

Richard is just stripping off his jacket when a small sound is heard off the prow of the raft, a soft 'ploop' noise. He looks up to see a small ring of ripples. "Johnny?" he calls. No answer. Did a fish just jump? Another 'ploop' sounds from the other side of the raft. This time Richard is quick enough to see something grey and slender duck down under the water. He has the uncanny sensation of being watched and a familiar 'thinking it over' sensation settles down all around him along with an equally familiar deep heavy silence. He stills and waits.

The second ring of ripples is broken by something rising out of the loch. At first, Richard is frozen in dread but then sees it is Johnny, unconscious and quite blue in the face. He lunges forward and catches at Johnny's harness and begins to haul him aboard. As he does, he sees Johnny is resting atop a slightly rounded grey surface that is rock steady in the water.

Idly, a thought crosses his mind, _to be that steady in this body of water that back must belong to something monstrous and heavy and very very strong._ As he eases Johnny over the gunnel, he feels and hears a surreptitious puff of air right behind his left shoulder. He doesn't turn around. "I'm not going to look so you can stop watching me… but thank you again," he says to the still air. He has Johnny in the bottom of the raft now and is doing CPR as best he can.

Johnny jerks, spits out a fountain of water, takes in a racking breath and starts to pink up. He opens his eyes, sees Richard and smiles, then his eyes travel over Richard's shoulder and his smile dies. "Richard, my boy…" he breathes through chattering teeth, eyes widening.

Richard puts his jacket around him, "I know. I'm not looking. Are you all right?"

Johnny looks down at himself then back up to whatever is hovering over Richard's shoulder, "With help like this, I jolly well am!" His eyes shift to Richard's, "Let's get back to Angus. I'm sure Mr. Clever-Clogs has got another plan up his sleeve to get us back into the castle." His eyes shift back, "Thank you, whatever you are. I'll be more careful in future."

Richard hears another puff of air. Can air sound sarcastic? There is one last 'ploop' then silence. When he dares to look, there are only ripples once more. _I wonder if it registers on the sub's radar_ , he wonders? _Maybe I'll get Angus to ask the Captain. I'm sure the Captain would welcome another one-on-one with him._ Richard smiles evilly then chastises himself, _Johnny must be rubbing off on me_ , he thinks, _and that can't be good!_

With Johnny's help, they paddle back to shore where Angus does indeed have a clever plan to get them into the castle. A clever plan that involves the wearing of skirts!

La Kaz

"Nevvie? What is that? A place, a thing, or a name?" No amount of Googling brings up the word… although there is an alternative suggestion that makes everyone laugh uproariously.

Dwayne wipes an eye, "Ah, man, I can't wait for the Chief to return so's I can poke him about a spellin' mistake! Him! He'll never live it down!"

Fidel smiles, "And you'll make sure of that, won't you? Come on, Dwayne! The man is allowed one mistake, surely? He's probably dodging bullets and…" He stops at the look on his DI's face and back-tracks hastily, "Did I say bullets? No, I meant… bullies. Yes, bullies… other spies, you know? Just a Freudian slip… spies… bullies… bullets… that's all!"

Camille nods and gives the man kudos for trying but it is a long time before she manages to fall asleep that night. Even with six children in the bed it still feels so empty.

END – part 14


	22. Chapter 22

Part 15 of 18

Skirts, kilts… whatever!

Richard helps Angus and Johnny into their purloined uniforms then gives a folded hanky to the two bound and gagged band members before sneaking into the castle himself.

The Polite Man (under wraps)

The captive musicians wave their hankies in the air at each other and are as excited as staid Scotsmen can be when it doesn't involve Laphroaig Quarter Cask. When they are found later by worried brother band members, they both insist on selfies being taken before their bonds are removed. Neither of them ever has to pay for a drink for the rest of their lives.

Word of the Polite Man (or Men) and his cohort (or brothers) never makes it out into the Sassenach world, not in thought, word, or deed but, at the pub just a few miles away on the loch's shores, two snowy squares of linen are proudly framed and acknowledged with many a quaff. The incidents of pub 'fichts' takes a welcome dip for the local polis.

The sale of white handkerchiefs doubles then triples as tokens are given by young swains to the apple of their eye. Many a young maid carries this white flag proudly. Domestic violence cases also take a dip. The phrase 'Why can't ye be more like HIM?' is heard quite often.

The Polite Man (now known as Swet Maun) quietly joins the Gaelic cèilidh of legends.

There is no word from the existing legends about what they think of all this.

Inside the castle

Angus manages to get Johnny back on his feet despite the heavy weight of the suit of armour.

"Where's my disguise?" Johnny grumps as he tries to remove the suit. The clasp won't release! Angus shoves Johnny's bundle of kilted disguise back inside a wooden chest and tries to help with the can of oil he has found there.

After a few wasted moments, Johnny throws up his hands and scoffs, "Bloody typical, isn't it? Whatever happened to good old fashioned British dependability? Well, there's nothing for it. I'll just have to carry on in this get up and hope like hell I don't end up back in the loch." He casts a knowing eye to Angus, "Not that falling into the loch again would be a problem. We have some very powerful allies, my boy."

Angus gulps and just nods. He'd seen something out on the water with the raft and he doesn't want to talk about it… or think about it. "I'm sure, sir," he mutters.

"Right! I'll go after Volta and foil whatever nefarious plans he thinks he's going to spring on us. You find Richard and make sure Volta doesn't leave the castle."

"Yes, sir," Angus says and dashes away.

However, the plan goes agley when alarms begin to sound and black-shirted goons with plastic guns lock down the Summit. Angus has just found Richard in a back stairway when a metallic clatter rattles louder and louder and both men leap for their lives as a suit of armour zooms beneath them, down the stone stairs, careens off a wall at a turn, and roars out of sight.

With wide-eyed disbelief, they dash after it, jumping over piles of wreckage and downed antiquities as they follow the noise all the way to the bottom, out a smashed door, and into a small verdant courtyard. They manage to pull Johnny to his feet and he tells them the situation up in the Summit room. Things look grim. They hear the approaching click-clack of heels. Angus and Richard dive out of sight as Bulletova appears.

When she is gone, Johnny indicates they are to retrace their steps as he strides down towards the loch, wagging a cell phone at them, "I'm calling Pegasus for back-up. You two try to release the hostages, all right?"

The two men look at each other and gulp before nodding and charging back inside.

END – part 15


	23. Chapter 23

Part 16 of 18

At the pier

Angus manages to elude his pursuers and get outside. He has no idea where Richard has got to. When they'd been ambushed in the main hall, they'd fled in different directions and lost track of one another. Angus leans on a wall and pants, _Really,_ _I'm getting too old for this. I hope agent English got through to Pegasus and the army will arrive any minute now to save us all and I can lay down and have a well-deserved nap right here on the lawn!_

Just as his heart rate is settling down, he hears an explosion and his pulse rockets back into the stratosphere. Fearing what he is going to find, he runs down to the pier to stand beside Johnny as the Dot Calm burns merrily to the water-line.

Angus can't believe it. How had agent English managed it? He throws in the mental towel. It doesn't matter how it was done. It was done. The cyber-attack is destroyed and the day is saved. He turns shining eyes upon Johnny and congratulates him.

The final show-down

Bulletova calls down from above and Johnny is striding off like Robo-Spy to capture Volta. Angus keeps pace with him although it is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. Seconds count, as Johnny so likes to say, but there's no hurrying the suit so they strive on manfully.

Thankfully, Richard appears just inside the smashed doors and together they help Johnny on his way. As they clear debris and rubble from Johnny's path, Richard mutters, "Now I know what you meant, Angus. He's unstoppable, isn't he?"

Angus nods impatiently, "Oh, yes, and somehow he's always in the exact right spot to prevent disaster. I don't know how he does it but he does. Every single time. He's a marvel. Too bad we don't have a dozen younger agents just like him."

When they enter the court yard where the helicopter is revving up, they see Volta whirl in absolute shock and surprise. His eyes take in the sight and he screams manic laughter, "TWINS?! You have twin helpers? Oh, god, please tell me there's only ONE Johnny English!"

Volta draws his gun and begins shooting. Angus and Richard huddle behind the suit as they keep advancing. Snatching quick looks around Johnny's arm, Angus shouts back, "Yes, there is only one Johnny English! Bad luck for Britain! If we had more like him, you'd have been jugged up DAYS ago!" Richard claps Angus on the back in total agreement.

Johnny's helmet squeaks as he nods, "Sadly, yes, there is only one of me. Tell me, Angus, Richard, from where will the next generation of spies arise? What hope is there for jolly old England?" Neither man has an answer.

Suddenly, Bulletova is with them. Richard ducks his head to hide his face and sees the loose cobble stone at the same instant as Johnny grabs Bulletova's tablet. Two arms flick out; one Frisbees the tablet, the other pitches a perfect scorcher. The tablet takes out Volta. The cobble takes out the pilot. The helicopter chokes and stalls. Quiet descends.

 **The Station**

" **Um-hmm. What do you think 'caseclosed' means?"**

 **Pandemonium reigns.**

END – part 16


	24. Chapter 24

Part 17 of 18

Things begin to settle down…

As Summit security personnel appear, Richard slips away and leaves the agents to handle the mopping up. He slips back inside the castle and makes his way to the summit room. As far as he can see, everyone is still alive and all the bad 'uns are rounded up. He hears voices coming up the main stairs and hides behind the tartan hangings at the back of the hall just as the Prime Minister and everyone else troops in.

Johnny and Angus take up a position nearby and Richard reaches out a hand to give Angus a quick nudge. Angus looks back over his shoulder and their eyes meet briefly. Richard gets another silent 'thank you' then ducks behind the tartans once more.

His satisfaction wanes as he listens with pride then with a bit of annoyance then with absolute outrage as the Prime Minister spins the whole episode to her benefit. _Great,_ he thinks _, she gets all the glory and Johnny gets a mention_ … _and Angus is totally ignored! How unfair is that?_

… or not!

His moral dander up, Richard is tempted to step out of hiding and declare loud and long as to where the honour and kudos REALLY lie when he hears a tiny metallic… ' **shink** '.

All hell breaks loose.

Richard peeks out from behind the draperies and is appalled! He sees Angus step in front of Johnny but that isn't going to work! Reaching up, Richard yanks down the yards of tartan and bundles it out to Angus who wraps the material around Johnny and moral decency is served. Richard fades into the background and makes his way out by circuitous hallways and doors, never noticing the camera flash that catches him for posterity and gives Camille bragging rights for years and years to come.

Aftermath

Hours later, when Johnny and Angus appear in the castle's front court yard, their helper is waiting for them. There is much back-slapping and laughter and taking the piss. Johnny finally has to order them to settle down. They go down to the pier and paddle back to the submarine where cousin Jeremy is waiting to hear all about it.

Only Johnny peers down into the waters as if looking for something.

Angus mutters for Richard's ears alone, "Sir, if we bump into anything before we reach the sub, will you restart my heart for me, please?"

Richard mutters back, "Only if you promise to do the same for me."

However, they reach the sub without incident and wing silent thanks heaven-ward.

The 'ride' back to London is most merry and Captain Ogilvie does indeed want to hear more about the mysterious radar and sonar shadow that they'd picked up briefly out in Loch Nevis. Johnny and she have a hushed conference and she is gratified as well as validated… what with being a sailor of many years and witness to many an odd thing on the high seas. She's heard worse.

She is most brusque about the commandeering of her missile control but she is then satisfied to have been part of the solution. Johnny assures her she will receive a special commendation out of it all and she is content. Well, as content as she can be with Angus laughing and cavorting with his friends across the mess room, unaware of his effect on her (or so she thinks).

She sighs. _Such a pity. I really must spread my nets and fetch me up another one just like him. Wouldn't it be fair sailing to hitch myself to such a feller?_ _Alas, it is not to be._ _Oh well,_ _buck up old girl, there's plenty of compensation for keeping faith with her Majesty's navy!_

Unbeknownst to her, Angus is also having a quiet word with Jeremy. Cousins are alike in more than just looks. Jeremy has a startling idea put into his head and he swings abaft to study his captain with a fresh eye. His oft appreciation of Ogilvie's finer points suddenly surges to the fore. He gives Angus a thoughtful look and slow nods are exchanged.

END – part 17


	25. Chapter 25

Part 18 of 18

Home again, home again

The final clue is 'home' and no one is surprised when the phone call comes in from Guadeloupe that they are coming in with the evening tide under the guise of 'Mr. and Mr. and Mr. Smith'. There is a rather large contingent of women, children, and townspeople waiting none too patiently in the Ferry Arrivals Lounge. The cries of joy and relief drowns out whatever else is happening in the vicinity when three tired looking men appear. The resulting scrum shuts down the area for almost an hour.

No luggage is lost. Some things DO change for the better - it seems.

Half an hour later, 'La Kaz I' is closed for a private party. No one inside the premises notices at first but jubilant phone calls bring them outside as the whole of the island is treated to an aurora overhead for the first time ever in living memory. Celebrations can occur on many different levels of existence - it also seems.

Two hours after THAT, Johnny and Catherine and nine children sail away – but not before a little green pill is secretly divvied up between three wives. The Saba house staff are predictably afflicted.

Doris checks into a luxury resort for a week. As she sits pool-side in the peace and quiet and misses the controlled bedlam of the Poole home, she thinks, _Well done, Dickon, well done._

Two households that shall remain nameless roister raucously far into the night, each knowing exactly what the other household is up to but they don't care. Much spooning occurs. Thankfully there aren't any nearby neighbours to call in noise complaints because Dwayne and Fidel are having too much fun celebrating at the all-night Honoré street party with all the islanders who now feel they can sleep safely in their own beds once more… whenever anyone manages to make it home, that is. There is some speculation on just exactly how long this celebration lasts but everyone agrees that Dwayne Myers is the last one to topple over.

The heroes are home and all is well and all manner of things are well.

The Polite Man Saga continues for several months but eventually peters out to become just another amusing anecdote to scoff at publicly but to wish privately that it were true. Scotland is one exception but no one knows about it so outside interests never gain a foothold. The other exception is Canada as The Polite Man is seen in many places all over the country and his doings are followed avidly by many neighbours to the south for, god knows, he is desperately needed in this world. Camille brings to Richard's attention (over the morning libations) the funny little news article titled 'I'm Having The Polite Man's Baby' that appears about six months later. His deprecating laugh is strangled within the instant as he is threatened for the first time with sleeping on the sofa. He believes it to be his earnest and avowed protestations against such scurrilous slander that wins the day… that and his puppy-eyes… but she knows the truth. She won't spend another night separated from him. Ever.

Epilogue

One year later 'The English Academy for the English' opens on Saba. The waiting list is five years and has Royal Warrant. There are reserved spots for any Poole and Bough children who decide to 'give it a go'. Not surprisingly, every single one of them DOES give it a go if only to try and outdo one another. This is where they all learn where their various 'gifts' truly lie.

Pegasus learns on his first official tour to avoid the forest as it is several hours before he is rescued from the man-trap by the newly appointed Admiral L. Ogilvie-Bough and Captain J. Bough who are frequent honoured visitors.

One of the Academy's main training grounds is Saint-Marie as it is the only place within several hundred miles with an adversary worthy of the student's training in certain matters. Anyone who falls to 'the Nemesis and his Minions' is jugged up good and tight for two days unless they learn to escape properly. Dwayne and Fidel are constantly surprised at the students' ingenuity.

As for the Poole and Bough households, they carry on as usual, taking into consideration the later additions…

… which is to say…

… much mayhem ensues and everyone enjoys it thoroughly into the distant future. The far, shining, happy, hectic, and eventful future.

END

**And… that's another wrap. I'm leaving this collection open in case my prayers are answered… Erzuli willing… or Bough visits.**


End file.
